Silence on Berk
by OtakuKidXD
Summary: Hiccup is a curious kid, but an accident makes him highly neglected in Berk. The other Vikings ignore his existence and the ones that don't just hurt him, so he leaves. Even when he goes missing for weeks, years, no one notices. The reversed role of human and dragon, Hiccup meets Toothless at age 5, broken leg, and switched roles; Neglect, abuse, and Dragonese speaking Hiccup.
1. Chapter 1: Enter the life of Silence

How To Train Your Dragon (Fan fiction)

By: OtakuKidXD

Silence on Berk

Summary: Hiccup is a curious kid, but an accident makes him highly neglected in Berk. The other Vikings ignore his existence and the ones that don't just hurt him, so he leaves. Even when he goes missing for weeks, no one notices. The reversed role of human and dragon, Hiccup meets Toothless at age 5, broken leg, and switched roles; Neglect, abuse, and Dragonese speaking Hiccup.

Chapter 1: Enter the life of Silence…

Berk: an island of rocks, cliffs, forests, and the cold. Ocean surrounds my home from all sides according to the maps, no beaches either, just docks and harbors. Daddy doesn't let me go outside the house to explore though, so I've never really seen enough to remember myself what the island looks like. Says it's too dangerous, that I set a house on fire when I was three and couldn't risk having a repeat happen. That I was too curious and would get in too much trouble, like I always had during dragon raids, saying ludicrous things like wanting to help and then at age three, going against orders to stay inside, and accidentally setting a house on fire.

That was the last time that I heard anyone's voice.

That was the day that the village started to shun me and my curiosity.

It wasn't my fault though. How was I supposed to know that the dragons could breathe fire? Or that my furry boots could catch it? Or that running didn't always help and that straw was extremely flammable, same as wood? No one would let me see the dragons or read the books about them. They all said that I would get too curious and wouldn't even tell me stories about the creatures, that if given even a scale of dragon information that I would follow the trail back to the dragon just to get eaten alive searching for information because of my curiosity. That even speaking about anything at all to me would get me curious about something that I shouldn't be sticking my nose into.

So for some reason, they thought it best to never give me any information at all, to shut me out of the world and to try to limit my knowledge. The whole village seemed to think that it best after that raid to just not talk to me at all, and by doing that I would never be in search of information if I didn't even know what to look for or think about. They didn't do that to Fishlegs or Astrid or even Snotlout and the twins Ruff and Tuff. No, just me, the 'Hiccup' got locked in his house and never spoken to.

I can't really blame them either though. I was given a book on medicine on my third birth day, just months before I burnt down that house. I thanked the medicine lady but she just brushed me off saying now I could treat my own injuries in the future instead of going to her for every scraped knee. I know she didn't really mean it though, 'cause she ruffled my hair when she said that. Normally that means it's a joke, right? Even though your eyes are hard like Daddy's battle axe, right?

The next day Daddy and I had a stomach ache from the breakfast I made us laced with different plants I had collected from the edge of the forest before Daddy woke up. I probably should have read that book better, but morning was the only time to use the forest and I wanted to surprise Daddy with my fast learning. If he saw me by the forest at all he would have freaked out. Mumbled things like '_can't let them take another from me'_ and other crazy things like that. I tried to ask him once about that, but he just denied it.

We went to the medicine lady and she looked upset to see me for some reason, but because Daddy was there she looked concerned for both of us. That is until she heard how we got in that state and she scowled at me. We left and I was really happy I hid that medicine book earlier otherwise Daddy might have taken it away. But since he didn't see it out, he didn't make the effort to look for it either and I read it in all my spare time, so that never happens again. Also because I don't think the medicine lady likes me anymore and I think she was serious at my birthday now.

One month before I burned down that house I saw Daddy throwing his battle axe outside, and so the next morning (because Daddy likes to sleep in) I dragged his axe outside even though it took me about half an hour to do because it was so heavy. I tried to lift it like Daddy did yesterday, only for it to be so heavy that I collapsed under the strain, having one of the heavier parts fall and my clamped hand result in my wrist being popped out of place, spraining it. It burned so bad and felt like needles were in my wrist stabbing at the opening so I screamed, my throat hurting afterwards, waking up Daddy and everyone else in ear shot (No one since we live so far away) up from their sleep. He crashed through the door, a knife in his hands, ready to go to battle in his pajamas, only to see me and his favorite battle axe in the front yard. His face got really red in anger when he saw me holding his favorite battle axe. He grabbed my hands, his face still red, and didn't even look back when I yelped in pain over him pulling my bad hand, but he did take me to the healer who looked over me silently before popping my hand back into place and telling Daddy to never wake her up for something so trivial again. He agreed.

One month later, in my curiosity yet again, I went out…

…And burned down a house.

Since that raid, no one talks to me, not even the other kids. Their parents probably told them that they weren't allowed or something. But they still hurt me when given the chance, probably because they could. They were all bigger than me too, so it wasn't that hard for them to trip me or push me or to tie me up in my room an leave me when Daddy invites the other Vikings over for ale while I stay in my room getting tossed about. Good thing they can't tie knots too well and that I am always better at escaping them than they are at tying them, because Daddy doesn't come into my room… ever. Not even if it takes me two days to undo a knot he doesn't come. I don't think Daddy likes me anymore. The adults don't even look at me, not even Daddy, and that hurts.

But he still locks the door on his way out with me inside and locks it again when home. At least the other kids can't get me with the door locked. I'm glad he doesn't lock me in my room. It's boring when your home alone and so I read the books lining the walls that he never reads, always putting them right back where I found them when I hear his steps on the walkway up the house. Though even reading gets boring since I only have to look at it once and I remember it forever. It's so quiet that any noise really is noticeable, from the dripping water on the roof from last nights rain, to the sounds of the stream not far from my house, so it isn't hard to hear Daddy come up to the house, his foot steps are really loud. When I hear them, I rush and put the books away, put everything that even says that I was there away, and rush up to my room. He unlocks the door, closes it, and re-locks it.

But he never checks on me or looks to see if I had been fed. Then again, it's his job to feed me, but he never does so maybe he just forgot? '_Or maybe he just forgot about you and locks the door out of habit like the other Vikings.' _I think to myself. '_Maybe it'll get better?'_ I lie to myself.

But my fourth birthday passes by. I tried to talk to Daddy that day, to tell him that it was my fourth birthday. I regretted that mistake.

He looked like he had seen a ghost, started muttering to himself, something along the lines of _'it's not real. My son wouldn't have looked like that. It's just an illusion. My son's dead, died before he was even born. That's right, he's dead…'_ and he continued to shut me out, ignored the fact that I was standing right in front of him.

Daddy thought that I was dead. No, that couldn't be right.

I would change that though, there was no way Daddy would think that, right, that I was dead?

"Daddy, what are you saying? I'm right here Daddy. It's me, Hiccup, your son." I pleaded, looking straight into his eyes, or at least trying to, they were so glassy. I hoped that some spark would ignite in them, that some sort of recognition would light up, but there was nothing.

"Daddy, pl-please look a-t me, p-please, just lo-look." I started to cry, my voice breaking in sobs and my little fingers grabbing into his tunic, digging into his left forearm as he sat in his favorite seat. There was a flash in his eyes then, a spark, but not the kind I was hoping for.

He thrust his arm to the side, my grip coming of as my body hit the dinner table in the next room, hurting my back immensely, but not as much as his next words hurt.

"I have no son!" He screamed at me, his face getting redder and redder, "My son would never poison his father, and disobey his orders going into the woods. My son would never touch my axe and if he did, he wouldn't get hurt doing so. And most of all, my son would NEVER be a HICCUP! All I see is a SHAME on the Haddock name, not fit to live in the village, needing to be locked up 'till nature takes its course banished for even _being_ a Hiccup. Thank your dead mother, she's the only reason I didn't kill you when you were born so _little_. But I am not your 'Daddy'; you are no son of mine." He sneers at me making his point that he doesn't want me in his life.

He lifted himself out of his chair and left me there, left me on the cold stone floor as the tears streamed down my face. I heard the crack of both the door and my heart as he slammed the door closed and locked it. Those were the first words I had heard since the raid, and the last words I had heard since. Who knows how long I sat there, minutes, hours, it didn't matter. My heart was shattered. My Daddy hated me. I'm a Hiccup. I'm not good enough to be his son. I'm a Hiccup. All my attempts to help so that I could be like him and help in the raids, even if I didn't know what they were, were for nothing. I'm a Hiccup. I was a shame on my family name. _I'm a Hiccup._

The only thing I heard other than these thoughts was the sound of the door opening, slamming shut, locking, and my father's footsteps past me, not even acknowledging my existence. Why?

_I'm a Hiccup _my thoughts tell me, coming to a conclusion. _Vikings are strong, and the village is strong and I'm. Just. A. Hiccup: A Mistake. Something that the village and my Da-Stoick have no need or want for. I'm just something that they'd rather forget._ Then I'll make their wish come true some day. I'll leave, but not without the knowledge I may need. After all, if I'm not strong like them, then I'll need some other way to survive, and what better way than with the thing that they all ignore me for anyways. I'll survive with my knowledge, my curiosity, and my soon to be skills. I won't leave until I have every book in this whole house memorized and practiced. I'll leave, and I'll learn. And if I can't leave Berk, then I'll live in the forests, away from the village and away from Stoick. I'll go the first moment I can, as soon as I can.

That was one year ago…

The next year, after learning everything in the house, after practicing and mastering everything in every book, and putting all wildlife, dragon-life ('_though I'll wait to see them and interact before making any sort of judgment on them other than their looks and abilities. The Vikings got me wrong so it's not too much of a stretch that they could have done the same to the dragons too'_), crafting ability, botany, toxicology, medicinal skills, and other skills like weaponry into my photographic memory, packing up all my hand made tools and putting all my 'new life equipment' (empty wooden canisters, knives, needles, arrows, bow, medicinal plants, preserved food, wire, thread, fur blanket, small tarp and one change of clothes including a tunic) on my person and in my leather bag that straps across my chest, I prepare the drugs for tonight. Tonight is the night that Stoick would bring people over for a drink. Tonight is the night that he didn't lock the door because there were too many people for me to sneak past and I lived to high to jump out of my window to escape from. Tonight is the night that they all think that they passed out from intoxication and tonight is the night that I gained freedom.

My name is Hiccup, no last name anymore. I have reddish brown hair, green eyes, and a wiry frame from my year of work and am both skinny and short. I am five years old and I have no parents, one being dead and the other being dead to me, and I make everything for myself, from the food I eat, to the clothes that I wear (all furs and leather that I steal from Stoick's closet when he's not home from the bottom of his chest and from whatever furs he throws away whenever he buys new blankets for himself (but not for the Hiccup of course. He gets the old stuff from when he was three.)) that covers my back, arms, and legs in fur and the rest of me in leather, including a hood that still has the wolf ears attached. My feet are protected in thick leather boots that go under my furs and wrap around my calves, but can easily be resized for when I grow older and my hands have the same in leather gloves that go onto my forearms. The winter is just ending and if I want to last the next, then it's best to go out and keep all my winter gear. After all, the summers weren't that great either and they'll help with sleeping.

Seeing that I have everything that I need and hearing Stoick slam and lock the door on his way out, I go to my dresser and grab a canister of the tasteless, odorless, and completely fool proof drug and then head out of my room and into the kitchen to where all the mead and ale is kept. Swiftly opening them and pouring in enough to knock out a timberjack into each beverage, I close them back up and wait in my room, counting down the minutes until freedom and going over everything to make sure that _nothing_ is forgotten. For you never knew just what would save you someday.


	2. Chapter 2: Drug and run

Silence on Berk chapter 2

Drug and run

Sitting on my bed, going through my bag and everything on my person, I know that I'm ready. I had already destroyed anything that I couldn't bring with me so that it may never fall into Berk's hands and there are no more traces of my presence in this cold and damp home. I'm ready to go and finally live, to survive, to learn and grow where I won't be shunned. To be myself and not have to deal with the sight of turned backs and noses in the air, of silence so deafening I thought that I would go insane.

At least Stoick snores, a noise that I had come to hate from the person himself but appreciate for helping me keep my sanity, to tell me that the house hadn't been abandoned and locked up. That there would be fresh food to pillage from the pantry the next day since Stoick liked to eat at 'home' on occasion, and that even if I had been forgotten, there was a way for me to live, if that could even be called living.

But that could never compare to the forest, for even from an open window it creates noise from such a distance away. The river gurgles and the occasional wolf howls, the frogs croak and the owl hoot. I won't be alone in the forest. I'll probably get more company out there than even before I was shunned in the village. No matter how comforting a human sound is, it isn't comparable to the life of the forest that tells of every living being's story, all on display and nothing to hide. Every animal makes a noise in the forest if one could only_ listen_ for it. Every sound _can_ be heard if one had the ears for it. Oh, if only I were closer to hear its songs.

I have no regrets for my actions and for destroying my things in this house and my will is only strengthened when I hear the thuds and clomps of the Vikings coming up the steps, their laughter resonating on me like sour milk that Stoick had left out for days. I left it there, never cleaned it up. He brought it out and I'm not his maid. His messes are for _him_ to clean up himself. Unless they touch the books I had yet to read. Those I would clean until I had read there information, then he could burn them for all I care, never to be learned from again. He never read them to begin with. They were probably my dead mothers anyways. He didn't even deserve their information in my opinion. So I slowly burned them for him, replacing their pages with blanks. I memorized them anyways and it's not like they were ever going to be read anyways. After all, _intelligence_ is looked down upon in Berk.

I look over myself once more as I hear the lock clicking open and their sounds resonating through the building. There are quite a lot of them this time. Much more than the last time he had them over for a spring celebration. I thank the stars that I had taken that extra week to make extra drug and put it in ALL of the ale and mead. There's no way that they'd have to go out and get more drinks, there weren't enough Vikings for that in all of Berk to go through Stoick's stash, and even if they drank all of the alcohol, it was all drugged so no one would be left behind on the intoxicating experience.

I probably could have tried to pick the lock and escape on my own that way, or any other way, but by doing things my way like this, the best fighters, Stoick's friends, would all be knocked out, it's not likely that there are heavy patrols to catch me, and I don't have to think about re-locking the door. That would have been hard and a waste of time. This way was diffidently the safest. And I trust my drugs, they don't take effect for ten minutes for any late comers, and they stay in effect for about a half an hour. Plus, you don't remember much of anything or the time difference, so you wake up and go straight back to what ever you were doing before, great stuff. And totally legit 'cause I tested it on myself.

Clambering out of my locked door, I slide and slink along the hallway, the cool wood and stone on my back that I can feel even through my furry back, the reminisce of winter making me shudder, I venture down the stairs to see who exactly was here. I thank my stars that there aren't any of the other tormenters here tonight either. The _children_ it seems weren't allowed to attend a drinking party, and that meant that if they weren't here, there were fewer obstacles to go through, though I hadn't seen any of them after that awful fourth birthday. Maybe they just forgot about me like everyone else. Like Stoick it seems.

After all the Vikings, 20 in all and all grown men who left their lovers and wives at home with the children so they could go drinking, come into the door, Stoick closes it. And just like I thought, he left it unlocked. Though I knew I would have to wait at least twenty minutes after they all fell asleep to escape. The Vikings here on Berk, although they liked a good party and good drink, they wanted to always share that with their buddy in raid battles and would never drink if they knew they were leaving someone who was supposed to come out. You never knew here, there are cases where Vikings fought to the death for less and it became an unspoken rule that you did NOT drink without your drinking buddy unless you had a death wish, just another case in which these barbaric Vikings were in my opinion, insane. Maybe if they drank less than they could think more, those foolish Vikings and their drinking problems.

Turning my head to survey my surroundings, I see my opportunity to go to my look out to watch them and to make sure that EVERYONE drank the ale and mead, and I take it, lowering my body into a crouch and putting on my makeshift claws that I had made in the fire place one night when Stoick stayed out to party. He was known for leaving late in the afternoon two days after the party to go back home and that left me with lots of time with the fires. Good thing he partied a lot. I got a chance to make most of my weapons on those nights.

Looking up, I see the hand holds in the wood that my claws would help me grab and I spring into action. I fling my body high and across the hallway and dig my makeshift claws into the wood and still my breathing. Looking down the stairs to see if anyone saw, I only see their backs and hear their loud bellowing voices. Seems the blacksmith amputee told a joke. I silently thank him for that if he could keep it up. A happy and loud Viking made for an easier escape if they can't hear my claws clattering and digging into the wood as I begin my climb up to the ceiling onto the high and thick beams of wood. Besides, a happy Viking makes for an easy to drink Viking making for everyone to go sleepy time and for me to escape. But I doubt they could hear me anyways. After all, if I could hear them from here on the raids and hear the noises, then they, being right next to the sound, might as well be deaf to the noises that I make.

I shift my body onto the beam, lying perfectly straight with my arms by my side in case I need a quick retreat, no matter how unlikely that would be. Careful to keep my body completely concealed by the beam, I close my eyes and use my ears to guide me into their conversation and the flow of their party. Can't be missing when the drinking starts now can I?

(Line break)

"HEAHAHAHAHA. That's a good one Gobber. A whispering death sang you a lullaby in the forest, that's the best one yet!" Stoick said to his old time friend, still chuckling as while the rest of the Vikings were giving full bellied laughs.

"But it's true. Tha' thing just came up ta me while I was a napping and started singing. But only in whispers all by me ear. I woke up and it bit me, see? It moved so fast it was a black ball of death itself I tell ya," Gobber tried to defend himself, raising his ear up so everyone could see the faint scar circling it.

"Hehehe, Gobber did you ever own a sheep," Asked Spitelout.

"Ay, I did. Pretty Night I called him. Finest black sheep in all of Berk, till those we devils did him in." Gobber said, hanging his head down and smacking his last good arm against his leg.

"I remember that sheep, he bit my finger. Do you remember that time Gobber?" Stoick joined in on the conversation, everyone listening now and all the laughing having stopped for now.

"I do remember that. We were in the forest edge by the river trying to give Pretty Night a bath. _You_ got rough and he bit you where you stood before running off back to the village. Lot a good that bath did…all that _wasted_ effort…"Gobber started to grumble off.

"I remember that too brother, you came home screaming about a possessed sheep, black as night and said that it was a demon. We had you tied up until Gobber came around asking about Pretty Night and saying the story of how you were bit. Mom wouldn't quit talking about it for months!" Spitelout said chortling at his brother's expense as did a few of the other Vikings.

"But it's true that thing was a wee demon. It bit everyone at some point!" Stoick exclaimed a few of the other Vikings nodding in agreement, remembering that black sheep, the only one they were glad to see carried off by the dragons.

"But not me," Gobber exclaimed a sort of pride in his voice, "Pretty Night never bit me!"

"Oh but Gobber, he did, you just don't remember." Stoick said a twinkle in his eyes.

"What do ya mean Stoick" Gobber said, his eyes tightening slightly in return.

"So you went into the forest,"

"Aye,"

"Went to sleep,"

"Aye,"

"And what did you hear, and don't say a whispering death," Spitelout asked, interrupting whatever Stoick was about to say, motioning something with his eyes back at his brother. Apparently Stoick got the message, his foot steps getting quiet as he left the room.

"I heard a faint humming sort of sound. It reverberated in my ears."

"And,"

"And then I started to shift in my sleep,"

"And then what,"

"I may have reached out to it, like I would my own hammer to sleep with…"Gobber said getting red in the face. A few more chuckles were heard. It wasn't that weird for a Viking to sleep with a weapon, but not always a hammer. That was more of a Gobber thing.

"And then what did it do,"

"IT BIT ME," exclaimed Gobber still sitting in his chair, "It bit my ear!"

"What did you see Gobber?"

"Ay couldn't see much, it moved too fast, but it was black and had a bite like no others"

"If you were to hear that whispering death again, would you recognize it?" Spitelout said his eyes all serious and pouring into Gobber's.

"On me life, I would never EVE-,"

"BAAAAAAAAAAAA"

"Oh my THOR it's come back FOR MORE!" screamed Gobber, jumping out of his seat while the room exploded with laughter.

"Wha' are you all doing! It's the whispering DEATH!"

Looking around, he saw a few pointed fingers behind him and turned around to see Stoick holding up a sheep, one very loud sheep, and Gobber's face starts to heat up.

"I told you Gobber that you got bit before. The whispering death was Pretty Night. Hahaha, we just never had the heart to tell you as kids," Said Stoick, throwing the sheep out the window.

"Brother, you're such a liar. We just forgot bout it because Gobber got bit by dragons of all kinds on a _regular basis._ But there was _NO WAY_ we'd let you say that Pretty Night, that little demon, didn't bite you. He bit EVERYONE." Spitelout said, starting to look straight at Gobber before they all burst into laughter.

"All right, all right, make fun of me now, but when that dragon comes to give _you_ a sweet night talking and you wake up without an ear, don't go crying to me," pouting, Gobber sat right back down.

"Hahaha, we know. If we ever hear a sheep we'll go straight to you for help," said one of the other Vikings, making Gobber go even redder.

"All right now settle down. Is everyone here for the drinking to start," questioned Stoick, not wanting to be on the end of anyone's axe the next day. No one made any sounds, so he assumed that everyone was there, and they were. All the main fighters who had survived for as long as they did were there, no harm on Stoick's or anyone else's life for the next day if they were to start.

And they did.

(Line break)

Laying there and giving an internal chuckle to Gobber's dilemma, I listen harder to the sounds of Stoick going to get all the alcohol. As I hear Spitelout making another joke, I wait for their laughter before I shift my position to look down over the beam at them to make sure that they all drink what Stoick brings back to insure my escape.

"Did Spitelout tell another story at your expense Gobber?"

"Hahaha, it's not what you think brother; it's about that time when Gobber mistook our dad for a dragon. An honest mistake if I do say so myself."

"Hehahahaha oh I remember dad. He sure was big wasn't he?"

"Yeah, and growled when angry too," Spitelout and Gobber say at the same time, resulting in more laughter.

"All right now, who's thirsty?"

And so began the passing of the ale and mead. It was also customary to do a toast before the drink and that made things so much easier for me to time since they would all drink at the same moment and drink hard. These weren't the average Vikings, but the Vikings who had gone through more than average and were the biggest and lightest drinkers known in Berk, at least by my standards of who is where after a party based off of the arrival of Stoick home and his grumblings about everyone he drank with. Not that he knew I could hear him of course.

The drinks were passed around and Stoick stood in the middle of everyone, holding his own mug full of ale, a twinkle in his eye as he looked over everyone.

"I thank you all for being here and for making it through the winter,"

"Here, here,"

"For being there with the village through the fires,"

"Here, here,"

"Through the raids,"

"Here, here,"

"And for making it back to spring!"

"Here, here,"

"I thank you all, for you, your children, and for your families. And I pray as I hope you do that they all become as amazing as you, that they live such adventurous lives, and that they too stay in good health as we make it through this year…_and all the years to come!_"

"HERE, HERE!"

"NOW LET THE DRINKING COMENCE!"

And they all tipped their glasses back, finishing it all in one go, every last one of those drinking thick and stubborn Vikings, poor excuses for humans really. All they did was fight each other, fight dragons, brainwash their children, eat too much, drink too much, and thought too little. How funny that they drink to family, for Stoick to say such a thing, and for them all to drink on it as they wait for me to starve in this hobble of a home, without even looking to see if the dead was done, just waiting for nature to take me and break me down like a piece of dirt.

As I watch them get into a drinking contest to see if they could finish off all of the ale and mead, I feel my opinion of them drop even lower. It's not long before all the people present in the house excluding me had drunken at least 9 mugs of ale and mead and the drugs start to take effect. Their laughter dies all of a sudden and a heavy snoring takes over, shaking the beam that I lay on.

Looking down I see that ALL of them are asleep and I wait a few more minutes before making my way down.

I crawl over to the other side of the beam and attach the claws to the wood before swinging my legs over the edge and attaching them to the beam in front of me. Making sure that my grip is good, I release one claw and attach it to the beam too. Then the other claw and I start my descent downwards until my leather boots touch the ground. Looking behind me, I see all of the sleeping men, all of the ignorant and all of the uneducated Vikings, except for a few perhaps like that Gobber fellow who seems to have been the reason for all of the weapons on Berk despite his strangeness and lack of sensibility, who had thought me to be nothing.

Facing forward to the left of the beam and in front is the door, the gateway to my freedom, unlocked and nothing stopping me. I know I have all of my things from my preparations before hand. All evidence of me being here destroyed over that year in order to make this truly work, I head over to the door and grab the handle.

I turn it, it opens, and I walk out that door. I close it behind me, look through the window to make sure all is well, and look around the house itself to make sure no one saw, and I take a sprint to the woods, towards my new life and my freedom. I never looked back.


	3. Chapter 3: Adjusting to the wild

Silence on Berk chapter 3

Adjusting to the wild

I knew where I was and I knew where I wanted to go. Seeing all the maps in my head of Berk, my prison turned home in the wild, I rush out and off of all the traditional paths ways and head deeper into the underbrush. Looking up, the sky starts becoming obscured by the trees, the nature, and the vegetation taking over my view of the stars. But that's fine; I still know where I'm going. My first priority is getting so far from the village and so far from the 'normal' areas that people go to that they wouldn't ever find me.

Not like they'd search to begin with, but you can never be too careful. Who knows what they'd do to me if they found me on a training expedition in the forest. I might just become the next target for their axe to burry into.

So I run, looking ahead and paying extremely close attention to the type of flora and fauna that I pass by. Noticing that the pine trees are starting to thin out to my left, I rush in that direction. The Vikings seemed to only make their houses out of pine, the big and sturdy wood that made up the most of the forests surrounding the village since that's also the only type of tree they planted. Strange really to even think of a Viking gardening, but I guess they had to do something with all the non-warriors and have a way to get enough wood to build their ever burning buildings. A single pine would give them so much more wood due to their size than any other tree on the island, so they ignored the others, making those areas the perfect place for me to live. It also helped that the pines grew faster than the other trees and so they started to neglect the more useful ones in favor of their pines. Looking around, I'm surrounded by oak trees, black willows, and the occasional dragon tree which I steer clear of in favor of the willows, another reason that the Vikings didn't come over here. No matter how strong they thought themselves, they weren't willing to be ambushed by the dragons in those trees and considered them no danger either since they weren't attacking the village, choosing instead to burn them later when all the dragon raids were over. It also helped that they thought the trees to just be inhabited by Terrible Terrors, the least of their problems. So they dubbed the dragon trees an annoyance that they would take care of later.

They could try.

Shaking my head, I peer into the night and see what I'm looking for; it's the small oak forest. Even if those Vikings made most of their things out of pine, an oak tree still had its uses, like for ship building, but as the amount of ships coming back from raids decreased, so did using such wood, instead using it to craft items like bows and arrows.

What Viking would ever use such a sissy weapon fighting from a safe distance from the beasts when the entire honor comes from spilling their guts onto your hands and weapons? It didn't take long to figure out what raids were from Stoick's swearing into the night cursing their existence or one look out my window for that matter to see parts of the village burning. Quite frankly, I love the dragons for those nights when they pull Stoick out of bed. Especially if they keep him out long enough to damage his weapons and for him to be so stupid as to put them into reach, always thinking that someone else had disposed of his broken beyond repair weapon when all I did was take it from under his nose and change it into something for me to use when he went out drinking for days. But what those Vikings did to the dragons just made me want to puke.

Swallowing the bile in my throat, I look ahead into the oak forest and smile at my luck. The forest is really thick here, making the maneuverability extremely hard to impossible for those overgrown Vikings, but perfect for me. My lithe body easily passes through the forest as I continue on ahead, making mental maps and comparing it to the ones in my head. I round another set of trees and gasp at what I find.

In front of me is a small, only a couple meters in diameter, clearing, but in the center is a large black willow tree, nearing a height of 30 meters, the other trees not breaking into the clearing and giving a full view of the stars. I bend down, putting my hands on the ground as I look to the other side of the clearing and I see my original goal, a fresh stream of water from the mountains that surround Berk, an endless stream that comes straight from the melting snow before it goes into the forest to become a couple of lakes that stream into each other, but the one closest to this clearing, I know, should have the freshest water of them all and the best fish from not being caught by the Vikings in decades.

Standing tall, I approach the willow tree carefully, looking down occasionally to make sure I didn't step on anything that makes loud sounds just in case. The last thing that I needed was for a random attack. It's not only the dragons that populate the dragon trees that I have to worry about, (though I'm pretty sure that the dragon trees aren't around here, though I'll have to double check later. Though really even if they were I don't think that I would want to leave this little piece of paradise) I also have to worry about any other kind of animal that may have found its home near or by the tree. Carefully coming up to the low hanging vines of the tree, I part them with one hand and raise my clawed hand to protect myself if need be. A smile tugs on my lips.

Looking at the tree's base, there are some protruding roots, perfect to make a form of pain killer out of and looking around, I can't see outside of the vines, also meaning that people couldn't see in unless they parted said vines. Looking up, the base of the tree is thick while the branches start to part from each other half way up the tree at 15 meters, making a twisting of branches that are both thick and spaced in such a way, I could just envision my home there, my _real home_ among the forest.

Still keeping my guard up incase anything lives in the roots or high up in the tree; I stalk closer to the black willow. As I approach the roots, I hear a high pitch whining sound. I instantly raise my guard, putting one clawed hand in front and the other closer in case I get jumped and need to block. I slow my pace and start to come closer to the roots where I hear the noise, seeing the tree give a sort of opening to a small burrow. Not seeing anything in the darkness, I almost turn around until I'm stopped by a whimper.

I reach into my bag while still facing the burrow; I grab my fire stones and a small branch off of the floor. Reaching on the floor I see some dry grass, almost as if winter never hit here, but more likely that there was never any snow on the ground here, the willow taking it all upon its branches. I grab a small piece of string and tie the dried grass onto the stick before striking my fire stones together to catch the fire. Raising my tiny torch, I approach the burrow again, only to hear the whining increasing and for my anger to boil.

On the ground laid a small baby wolf, almost silver in color with mixes of black going through its fur. Its eyes a shining blue and the size of only a pup, it couldn't be more than a baby just getting off of its mother's milk. But that didn't bring my anger to a boil, no, it was the small dagger it its hind leg, clearly a dagger from Berk by the crest on its wooden handle and whoever had places it in the pup didn't care enough to kill it or to make sure of the death. It didn't even seem like they cared for the fur meaning three things to me. One, the pup had family that was hunted and killed while he was left behind, two the pup had been hunted, but got away and the Viking didn't even have the decency to kill the pup, or third being the worst, it was all for fun, to see how long the pup would last before he probably escaped from them. I wouldn't put it past them to do something like that either and mentally congratulate the pup on surviving so long even though it was probably painful to even get this far.

Growling out loud and silently cursing the Vikings I reach my hand out to the pup, only for the whimpering to increase mixed in with growling from the pup towards me. Looking down and feeling the cold metallic feel of the claws on my hands, I take them off and the growling lessens while I put them away. I go towards the ground and I dig a hole to place the small torch in, an area that was surrounded by dirt from all sides and far enough to illuminate the burrow but not close enough to burn anything if it were to fall in any direction since I moved all flammable objects away from it.

Turning around the pup is trying its best to crawl away on its front paws and it nearly breaks my heart even more to think that the Vikings would hurt such a little thing.

I start to crawl to the pup, my motions and sound stopping the pup it its tracks as it looks over to me and seems resigned to its fate. Though I can't understand why since I haven't made any moves to harm it yet if you didn't count brandishing my weapons, but I put those away. Moving my head to the side, I feel the hood and realize what I'm wearing, wolf skins. Instantly, I reach up and pull my hood down to show the pup that I'm not harmful to it and I hold out my hand to sniff. The young pup still looks untrusting, so I back up a little and try to come up with something to make me seem more non-threatening.

I shuffle out of the burrow for a bit and look up the tree to make sure that there is nothing lurking above in the branches and I sigh in relief seeing that being the case. I look around real quick and am satisfied that there weren't any animals that I could hear or see either around the clearing or in the willow tree, the only sounds coming from the pup. I look into the burrow and the pup is watching me very carefully. A thought strikes me and I remove my claws from my waist where they were hanging off of my belt. Looking into the pup's eyes he seems to calm a bit, but still not trusting.

Why am I even going through this? I could just kill him since he's already wounded and then use all the meat, fur, and bones for other uses to help insure my survival. But I know why I'm doing this. After looking at the dagger I know that I can't just off this poor pup.

I don't want to be labeled like those savage Vikings who probably hurt this pup for fun and in sport. Even if no one could see these actions and if the pup were to die the next day by some other predator when I wasn't looking, I didn't want to be like any of those excuses for human beings from Berk, carrying all those weapons and trying their best to intimidate what they can't possibly beat, dragons.

Oh. My. Thor. I'm so stupid. I look back at the pup and I take off my fur jacket and I drop open my bag, taking all the supplies out one by one and I show my empty bag to the pup. His eyes look back at mine and the fear of death seems to be gone for the moment when looking at me, but when he glanced back to his injured leg, the look of death and the fear of it seemed to return. At least he wasn't afraid that I was going to kill him anyways.

Sighing, the pup looks back at me and I smile a little. Then I pick up some vials, making sure the pup sees exactly what I'm doing as I put one by one my medical supplies into the bag, including a needle and string, my sling of water, some cloth, and a few straight sticks I found on the ground, not exactly sure what I would need, but having an idea of it anyways. A small bit of apprehension flashes in his eyes at the sticks, but the fear of me killing him is gone and for that I'm grateful. After all, he _was_ harmed by Vikings, no matter if I was a Vikings or not, I too am _human_. I leave the rest of my supplies, including my fur jacket but not my furry pants, right outside the burrow where I could still see them, and I head inside to take a look at the baby wolf's injury. He growls slightly but that stops when I reach my hand out to him, just leaving it in the open near his front and sitting on my knees waiting to see what he would do.

The pup reaches forward after a bit and sniffs my hand, his eyes dilating just a bit and the growls completely disappear from his muzzle. I guess that even if I lived in the house of a Viking, the smell never rubbed off on me since I tried to stay away from his stuff except for when I stole things from him, but even those I cleaned off. I guess the smell of home made soap wasn't the smell of a Viking and the pup relaxed, toning down his noises to just a few whimpers of pain.

Not used to speaking and not wanting to start using that awful Norse, the language of Vikings, I spoke to the pup with my eyes, trying to convey that I wasn't going to harm him and that I wanted to help him instead. He looked at me for a while and then licked my fingers, a sign that I took as trust. I thanked him with my eyes as he pushed his head down and continued to watch me as I got closer to inspect the injury. My eyes tightened.

Around the blade and in the fur was blood, both dry and wet matting the fur down around the injury, making it hard to tell how old it was since it was probably re-opened by accident by the pup at some point. I reach out to touch the blade and the pup whimpers. I look back at him and then I reach out to the ceiling, seeing some root there and I break off a piece and give it to the pup to chew on, to help for the pain. Looking into my eyes first, the pup agrees and bites into it, chewing on the roots and the effect starts to take over the pup for he doesn't make a single sound as I touch the blade again.

I reach into my bag and grab the cloth. I take a piece and strip it smaller and into a longer piece and I tie it really tight onto the leg of the wolf, trying to stop the blood flow from that area before I start to deal with the knife itself. I pour some water onto the area to clean it and all of the dried and fresh blood flows off the pup and onto the ground, giving me a better picture of the knife wound. I pull some canisters out of my bag filled with different balms and medicines to use on the side and then I reach out to the knife. Getting a good grip on it, I look into the pup's eyes one last time, give him an apologetic look before I remove the knife in one swift pull, and even if the pup were chewing on that willow bark, it still hurt a lot.

The young pup howls a broken sound and tries to move, but I hold him down and pet his back, trying to calm him down a little so that I could continue to help him. After a minute, he starts to lose more blood, even with the wrappings, and I hurry over to my balms, keeping one hand on the leg where the wrapping is to keep him from moving the injury around while the other searches out what I'm looking for on the ground around me.

Finding it on the floor by my own leg, I reach for it and grasp it in my hand before I shift one leg to lie on the wolf pup's paw, to keep him from moving while I open the canister with both hands. I dip three fingers in and then apply the balm directly to the wound and hold the wolf pup down while it takes effect and flushes out the wound. The broken howls of the injured pup fill me with sorrow, but this had to be done. Even as the pup reaches its head out to bite me, I let it, as the small teeth barely even make its marks into my left shoulder. A slight metallic smell comes from my shoulder, but very slight, so much so that I don't even worry. It can't be more than a small cut, barely any flowing blood. I worry more for the pup. There was some infection in the wound and that balm would help remove it and to push out the puss of the injury onto the floor. Ignoring the horrible smell, I reach with one hand to my water canister and wash the wound out again. The pup howls again against my shoulder, but he's beginning to quiet more and more from exhaustion. Taking the other canister off of the ground, I open it and apply it to the wound, and the pup visibly relaxes to the point that he passes out. I'm thankful for that since his jaw relaxes and I gently move his head to the floor as I reach for the needle and thread to stitch up his wounds.

I put the needle over the fire to disinfect it, I string it up with the string, wait for it to cool, and I start to stitch up the wound. The wolf pup whimpers, but doesn't awaken, so I continue stitching until I finish. I clean the wound for the last time tonight, apply more balm to the surface, and then I wrap up the wound in cloth and remove the blood stopping cloth on his leg before sleep overtakes me too. As a last effort, before sleep overtakes me, I crawl to the outside of the burrow with my bag, place all of my things within it, and I clean and put balm on my wound before blowing out the little torch, deciding to sleep shirtless tonight since it's both to hard to wrap a wound on my shoulder/back and too tired to attempt it tonight. Besides, I trust the pup to not hurt me. And if he does, then I would have a perfectly good reason to defend myself. I would not be a Viking when that happens. I just hope that it doesn't have to come to that.

I lay my body by the wolf pup as I hear its whimpers, put my left hand on its fur and start to stroke it, quieting the pup as it starts to even out its breathing, becoming more peaceful as my breathing starts to match his. My mind drifts and I start to all into a dreamless sleep.

(Line break)

My eyes feel crusty and a wet texture running on my face wakes me from my slumber. Opening one eye I have to close it as the wetness runs right over them. Groaning, I bring my hand over my face and wipe down on it, opening my eyes again to see the offending pink ligament hanging out of the pup's mouth. Seeing it try to stand, I immediately rush over and put my hands down on its body, scolding him with my eyes. He gives a small whimper but complies with my demands as I pour the full power of a medics scolding skills into my eyes. I run my hands through his fur though, to comfort him and he relaxes under my touch.

I move over to the make shift bandages and remove them to look underneath at the wound. It's a little pink, but otherwise it seems to be doing well, the stitches all in place not a single one broken, no puss coming out of the wound and even on the edges a small sign of healing. But I can't let this pup stand yet, otherwise the stitches could pop.

I look at the pup and rub his head, but at the same time push his lower body down, hoping that he got the message that he was okay, but needed to stay put. He whimpers again and tries to get up, but I push him down again, and then I hear a rumbling from beneath me. The wolf looks away and the reason for his wanting to get up dawns on me as I hear a rumble from my own stomach. I realize that in my haste to get away from Berk, I hadn't even eaten anything since the night _before _I ran. I look the pup in the eyes and laugh as I reach for the bag, the pup confused by my noises. I reach into the bag and pull out some dried meats to see what he would eat and the pup makes happy noises in its throat.

I hand over some sheep meat and he readily eats it while I take a bite out of my own piece.

Not knowing what to call this little pup, since it seems that I had just gained an unexpected piece of company in this willow tree, I just leave it be, not wanting to change whatever he had been named by his parents and not ever, _ever_, wanting to name him after a Norse word or use Norse at all now that I was free of the Vikings of Berk. But I had seen how some of the adults in the village would whistle to get their kids attention and I needed a way to call for the pup in case of emergencies or just for whatever the future would hold, so I went for that, that I would whistle a certain way when I wanted to get the pups attention. Thinking of a short tune, I might as well start the pup's learning of this now.

I whistle out a high tone, then a low, and lastly one in between and the pup looks at me from the noise and I pull out another piece of the sheep from my bag and give it to him. The pup looks pleased so I leave it at that and reach for the water skin, only to find that it's empty from using it to clean out wounds from the previous night. Well, time to go refill it and taste the best water probably found on this island.

As I stand, the pup whimpers at me and I reach out to pat his head in reassurance. I point to the water skin and then to the outside of the burrow and then back, hoping that he got the message, apparently not as his teeth dig into my arm lightly, trying to tell me not to go. Actually now that I think of it, I'm _freezing_. The air hits my bare torso and I shiver, reaching for my wolf skin and leather top. I look back at the pup and though he seems a little wary of the fact that I have the skins at all, he still doesn't fear me to kill him. That's good.

I point to the water skin again, opening it and shaking out a drop to show that it was empty and back outside, finally getting the message across as he lets go of my arm and I put back on my top, looking over my shoulder and seeing that it had scabbed over, and head outside to get some more water.

I part the willow tree and look for the stream as I both spot and hear it as the morning sun glimmers through the clearing's opening onto the area of the stream that's exposed. I walk over, in no hurry, and fill it up, taking a long drink, and filling it again before making my way over to the willow tree. Before going into the burrow, I whistle the tune again to signal my approach and then I look in to see the pup looking my way. I go in and give him the water to drink, making the sound again and he finishes the whole water skin.

Sighing I stand up again to go fill it and I feel a tug on my sleeve, again. Looking at the pup I point to the water skin, back out of the burrow, and then back in to him and he lets go. I go outside the willow, fill the skin and look up at the sky. What did I get myself into?

(Line break)

One month of being nurturer to a baby wolf. That whole month consisted of a week before the stitches come out and two before the skin was back to its hard to penetrate self and the fur started to cover the scar. One more month was spent to move out of the burrow that I now dub the land of the silver pup and to build a little shack for myself up _in_ the willow tree's branches. Quite a nice little place too, with the fact that I built it sturdy so that it wouldn't fall to anything, but also large and with an easy enough to build on blueprints. That way I could expand if I ever needed to, like to make an area for healing animals, another one for eating and for preparing or drying things out for the winter. And maybe a side hut connected still on the willow tree where I could store provisions for the winter. Heck the tree was big enough for it, but just building this little shack took me about a month. Cutting down a willow tree from a couple miles off and dragging back the pieces was hard work. I couldn't risk using the ones nearby to show that I lived by that willow tree and I had to make sure that the tree was far from any dragon trees and Berk too. Last thing I need is an angry mob of either coming after me for any reasons. That and the willow trees were a bit harder to find also, unlike the endless pines that I could get from the Berk area that's a lot of miles off from my current location or the oaks that surrounded me. But if I wanted this hut/shack/home to be hidden then it was willow tree wood that I needed.

My little shack of a home is great and even greater is that even when in the willow tree's vines; it's disguised to look like the rest of the tree, with vines hanging off in some areas and branches coming off in others. I also built it to blend in with the trunk, using willow tree wood to help, just so that the willow tree looked taller than it really was. But for a five year old to do all of this, it took ingenuity (using the wire that I brought to hold it together until I made nails or stole some or something), hard work (constantly having to re-heat the needle to puncture holes for the wire), and time, lots of time. It took me two days and countless trips to even bring that willow tree wood back to my little clearing. Even with the silver pup helping to drag a piece or two every time with me. And then the rest of the month, or at least I think it was that long, it certainly felt like that, to build the shack. My guess is that it's been about two months.

And Berk never even sent out a search for me.

That stung a little, but honestly I feel relieved. It gives me hope that I can just live out here and no one would know any better. Besides, I'd know if they were searching, the little Terrible Terrors that live in the dragon tree about a hundred meters off would have been making a panic as word spreads that Vikings are coming near.

Though I never could understand the growls and yips of my friend the silver pup, I still got the main meaning of what he was trying to tell me. I'm hungry or I'm tired were easy to spot since he said those often and I was his source of both food and now shelter since I helped him to make his burrow more hidden. Though on further inspection I did before, I think that he scared the rabbits out of it when he came in injured. Their fur was found a little bit deeper into the burrow making a soft little bed for their young. If feel kind of bad for running them out of the willow, but at the same time, this was our home now.

But the Terrible Terrors were a bit easier to guess at what they were trying to say, their yips, growls, chatters, pops, and other sounds used more methodically and in a simpler manner than how silver pup would speak, more in just grunts and growls, saying few things. The dragons, though I've only really met the Terrible Terrors when they came close to sniff us that one time we were eating dried fish, made more sense and when they chirped their words, I more or less got a better picture on what they were saying, so I whistled for the silver pup to calm down as they sniffed us. Though I never really tried to speak in either of their languages, just simply staying silent and using my eyes, body posture, and whistles to the young pup to say what I mean. The Terrible Terrors were visitors to our home, for both food and for help on a rare occasion if one is hurt, mainly from their rough playing around with each other.

The only problem for us now, was that we were out of food. Honestly I'm amazed that it even lasted as long as it did, but then again, I never did eat much and the foliage gave me lots to eat, so the meats mainly went to the pup. The pup was still young, too young to really hunt on his own, even though he was growing like crazy, and the other animals had left us alone so far, excluding the occasional visits from the little dragons or a stray animal to heal or two, either they did not finding us or had come to the silent agreement of 'ignore us and we ignore you' or 'we come in peace if you can help'. Though once we start to hunt, I suspect that the agreement might go a little sour with some of them. Especially if they're the ones I end up hunting or I end up hunting on some other animal's grounds. Honestly, I'd rather come to an agreement of, 'I'll help you until I hunt, in which I'll tell you, give you all time to run, and then no hard feelings for either side if they're to die'. That would be the best.

With that in mind, I give a short whistle to the pup, point him to his burrow, and grab my bow and arrows. I give a loud howl so that all the animals around could hear me and I wait a while so that way they knew I meant business now. The pup looked at me like I was crazy when I turned around, but I didn't mind. I wanted to be fair that the animals that we ate weren't just coming over for help, but honestly had a chance to get away from me.

I look into the oak forest and begin my stalking, my quiet moving in hopes of finding tracks of prey and keeping an alert eye out for predators that would eat _me._

I get lucky as I spot some rabbit tracks ahead, startled a bit from my howl, and I feel a little bad that they would die from me warning them of my approach. But better that I had scared them now than for this family to come to me for help. I may have feed them some of my extra green foods when the silver pup wasn't looking.

I lower myself to the ground slightly and start to make my way into the thicker bushes and shrubs of the forest, whirling around trees as I look at the direction of the tracks and where they led. At least they didn't lead me to a burrow; otherwise I may have hunted their whole family. That silver pup was a growing wolf after all.

I look out from behind my tree at the rabbit and I string my arrow, silent as the dead, and I pull back before I get ready to release. Saying a silent sorry to the rabbit, my fingers go soft and I release the arrow, hitting it straight through the eyes, an instant kill.

I make my way over to the rabbit and I remove my arrow from his head and I string him up with some wire while I slit the throat to let him bleed out before traveling back. But the smell of rabbit blood I know will scare away the other rabbits and now will probably attract other animals, so I gut the fat rabbit there and leave some of its entrails for the inhabitants of the forest, intent now on catching lots of fish from the lake far down stream and to shoot a bird like a wild turkey if I'm lucky on the way back to the willow tree.

I give the whistle signals that I'm approaching to the silver pup and he comes bounding out of the burrow, smelling the rabbit I'm sure. I look over to the pup, he's still small enough that the rabbit should last him two to three days, but I know that won't last long before he needs a rabbit one a day or maybe ever two! And even though winter was months off, at least seven or so, I still had to be prepared for anything, like storms that scare away game or not being able to catch anything one day and gaining lots of food for another.

I grab the rabbit from where it was hanging on my person and I pull out one of my daggers, the one that the Vikings having used on the silver pup being completely destroyed to ensure to the pup that I was not like them, and I strip the rabbit of one of its hind legs and throw it to the pup. He howls with joy and immediately attacks it, ripping of the flesh and devouring it. So used to sights like that in the woods, I ignore it in favor of putting the rabbit meat in an area to dry in my shack, the only way up being either a ladder I throw down from the top to let the silver pup up, or having my claw attachments and climbing up with them. I hang the meat to dry as I grab my fishing spear to catch more food for the both of us. Just because I could eat rabbit food didn't mean it was as taste as actual meats, even if I gave most of it to the pup. Maybe next spring I'll help him hunt and kill for the first time, but for now, he is still too young and is still growing. He can just continue to help me smell out danger now and then and can keep watch over our home, growling to other animals that we mean no harm.

I put on my claws, strap my fishing spear to my back, and make my descent down the tree where I see silver pup still eating his rabbit. I give him a short whistle, hold up my spear, and point down the stream to tell him where I was going. He gives me a short growl in response, trots over, and licks up any rabbit blood and smell that might have gotten on me and then goes back to eating his meat. I roll my eyes at that and give him a small smile. I almost forgot that I probably still smelled like food.

I make my way down to the edge of the clearing and start to follow the river down stream to the first lake. Looking around and listening hard, I didn't hear any predators and so I made my way over, holding with me just some wire and my fishing spear, having left everything else back at the clearing. The animals still considered this my territory, but it never hurt to check for predators just in case. The warm air hit my chest and I'm glad that I left my furs back at the willow also, only wearing some leather shorts really so that I could go into the water to spear the fish without getting any of my furs wet. Besides, it was getting a little warm to wear lots of fur outside of hunting to improve my camouflage and for sleeping to keep warm up in the tree. Looking down, the fish all swim around, and after being completely still for a few minutes, they start to swim closer to me too. One particularly big fish swims a little too close and I spear it immediately, aiming for the head to make it a swift death. It hits and I smile as I quickly pull it out and string some wire between the eyes and hang it from my waist. It only takes minutes for the fish to swim close again.

Three hours later and I have enough fish to last us a month. That would be the case if the Terrible Terrors or the other animals didn't always insist on us sharing our fish. I don't mind too much, but when winter comes, they better not think the same. For now though, I don't mind sharing so long as they don't mess with my tree, both the shack and the burrow.

Heading back home, a Terrible Terror from one of the closer dragon tees came over to land on my shoulder, chirping in hunger, and I reached up to pet it, only to find myself putting my hands over my ears instead as a loud shriek filled the air. The Terror on my shoulder hissed before it flew off, leaving me behind. Not knowing the danger, I sprinted towards the willow, only to feel myself lift off of the ground, my left leg in deep pain from whatever had grabbed it, but not bleeding, just horrible pressure, as if it were between two ramming goats. I give a high pitched whistle in time to see the silver pup rush out into my view as I get raised higher and higher. Not knowing if I would survive whatever this dragon (cause nothing else could screech like that and fly like this could carry me away) had in store for me, I grab the fish at my sides, toss them down to the pup, and give it a stern glance both full of fear and determination before I whistle for it to go back to the burrow and hide. The pup gives one growl before complying with my wishes and I sigh before going limp. Whatever this dragon had in store for me, then so be it. Not like I could escape anyways, my leg hurt so bad.

And so I felt the air around me whoosh as I was taken higher and higher, only to feel it come back as I'm dropped into the woods, the branches breaking my fall, and the ground coming up hard, my bitten leg getting underneath me during the fall, only to hear and feel it snap as it lands beneath me.

I scream, the noise coming out on par with whatever species of dragon had carried me of, except mine was of pain. It hurt, it burned, and it was needles of ice and fire stabbing into my leg and up my spine to my brain. A few of the more loyal Terrors flew in to see what was wrong, but immediately left when a shadow loomed over head except for one. They squawked at it before leaving, but not the one that stayed, that would growl at the sky, but in my pain I didn't really hear what they would mean behind their squawk or what the little one on me was growling from my chest. My leg just hurt so much. And as that died down, so did the rest of me hurt from that fall.

A loud thud alerts me to my capturer, but the pain is too much. I whimper from the pain as it overloads my brain and send a whistle to the little dragon to escape, but it just stays on me. I guess I was a really good source of food for the little Terror, but I don't want him to die because I would feed them so I whistle again, but it just growls more, this time at whatever dragon had landed. I hear more growls, this time deeper and I look over to where the Terror had its head pointed, growling and chirping with the other, and the last thing I see is a pair of glowing green eyes and my death coming closer in the form of a pitch black dragon.


	4. Chapter 4: Trapped in a tree

Silence on Berk chapter 4

Trapped in a tree

Waking, my eyelids being pestered by sunlight, I shield them with my hand and crack them open, only for my vision to encompass electric green and gold flinted eyes, dangerously close to my face.

Startled I move, but cry out in pain as I feel a fire in my leg, and moving it only made it hurt worse. My sudden burst of noise startled the dragons and the black scaled one moved back a little bit from me, but not enough for my taste since I didn't know him. I hear growls and chirps from my chest and I look down to see a little red Terror on my chest. It chirps at me, reprimanding me for moving, and looking up at broken branches and down to my horribly painful leg, bent funny underneath me, my memories from earlier come back.

I was attacked by that dragon with green eyes and black scales.

As realization dawns on me, my adrenaline kicks in and no matter how hard that little Terror chirped at me, I continued to move, trying to get away from the black dragon. For some reason the black and green eyed being doesn't move farther away, just continues to watch, perhaps getting enjoyment and a show before he goes in for the kill. Some animals I saw did that to their prey, playing with it and watched it struggle before getting bored and killing it for food. Personally I thought that to be cruel and always went for the least painful death for them, and only when necessary. Oh, how I wish that this black would either finish it or get bored and leave, preferably the latter. I continue to struggle to get away from the black dragon, ignoring the chirping Terror still on my chest.

But as the adrenaline started to fade, the pain in my leg returning, and seeing that I hadn't even moved a foot, reality sunk in too. I was going to die. I had only had a few months of freedom from Berk before my life was going to end at the hands of a dragon.

I look to the Terror on my chest, my eyes devoid of life, accepting the death I was sure to receive, as I move my hand to that spot they like to be scratched, beneath their chins and on the sides by their ears, ignoring the growls from my soon to be killer as I raised my hand towards the little dragon and I scratch the little guy. If I was going to die, then I might as well let the little one have one last good scratching before I depart. I couldn't give him food if I was dead and the least I could do for the Terror staying with me till the end was make him comfortable before I sent him away, before the black scaled dragon was sure to go in for the kill.

The Terror purrs and warbles in bliss under my touch and my grim reaper stopped its growls. I don't really care though. I continue to make the little one happy in what little time I have left before I die. I can't escape, can't move, and it's only a matter of time now when I will die by the dragons claws.

It's too bad that I wouldn't get to spend my remaining time with the silver pup. He may have eaten the most out of the two of us, gotten me into troublesome situations the most, and forced my hand to hunt others in order to feed him, but I didn't really mind. He was my friend and child, someone I had come to care for and desired to protect. I would care for him as a parent would and play with him as if he were my best friend in the world. In reality, he was. The Terrors had become both friends and children to play with and many animals had become my acquaintances. Even if me and the silver pup would have to hunt them one day, I hope that they know that I would always give them fair warning to realize that we were on a hunt so that we did not kill when they weren't aware of that, and that they would still come to me in their time of need. We all may need to eat, but that didn't mean we couldn't be friendly and civilized outside of the hunt.

To think that even animals that are against each other during the hunt were more civilized than the Vikings, who hunted for fun. Those Vikings held grudges against one another and the animals had put those behind themselves, knowing that it was for survival. If only Vikings could have been like that too, I may not have needed to leave. But they weren't and so I left. And now, I was going to die by the claws of what they would fight.

I continued to scratch at the little Terror, now collapsed on my chest, his scales rough and bumpy on my nails, a black object moved in my peripheral vision. Looking towards my left, my hands pause on the little dragon and he too turns to see what had stopped the bliss and growls lightly in annoyance. The black dragon had moved without me noticing, well much, and now was just an arm's span away from my head.

Looking the dragon dead in its green eyes, mine completely dead and accepting of my fate, I try to usher the little Terror of my chest and towards the willow tree. When my hands reach out to the little Terror, the black dragon's eyes tightened, but it didn't make any noises this time. I continue to try to push the Terror off of me, but he just stubbornly clings to me, his little claws scratching my bare skinned top. I whistle a command to it, to go to the willow tree while I look back at the black dragon, looking into my death, but the Terror just gets closer to me and rolls its eyes.

The next thing surprises me. The little Terror stands up, on my chest of course, and looks at the black dragon before scolding it. At least I think it was scolding, it was the same tone of growls, warbles, chirps, and popping noises it had done to me when I had tried to move. Mystified, the black dragon's eyes actually turn towards the dirt, almost as if ashamed by something. The black dragon looks at the Terror, warbles something at it, but the Terror just gives the black dragon a quick and short roar, enraged at whatever the black dragon had said to it before it continues to scold. This continued on for a while longer. Actually it carried on for so long, that I looked at the sky and just realized something.

I had been unconscious like this for a really long time. I went fishing and continued on until the sun should have been setting soon, got carried up shortly afterwards by a black dragon, getting injured in the process, and now it was morning, with said dragon not a few feet away from me. These dragons had been here for about half a day, maybe a day and a half if I had been unconscious longer, though I doubted that, and I had never been hurt. Or maybe more hurt is how I should put it since _everything_ still hurt from that fall. At least nothing new was broken. But still, the black dragon hadn't killed me while I was unconscious. I know that it could have taken the Terror since it was bigger, but it hadn't. Heck, the little Terror was still here, maybe even skipping a meal to keep watch over me. My eyes warmed at the thought as I looked over at the Terror and noticed that both dragons were looking at me.

The little Terror warbled something then to the black dragon and it gave a short, but apologetic growl looking at the Terror before its green and gold flecked eyes rested back on mine own. My breathe catches in my throat as the black dragon came closer and closer to me, now just inches from my face, his large glowing green eyes staring into mine. My fear takes over my body and I find myself that I really can't breathe. As I struggle for breathe a reassuring rumble comes from my chest and I glance down to look at the little Terror, who looks back at me expectantly. It licks my face and purrs as I find my lungs enough to breath. The Terror looks me in the eyes, and then it motions its head towards the black dragon on my left and I tremble slightly. The little Terror purrs again and I gain enough confidence that my trembling stops, but not enough to turn my eyes to the left. The Terror lets out a slight growl and moves up against my face, pushing it to my left. Reluctantly, I turn to face the owner of those glowing green eyes. My heart stops.

In front of me is my supposed killer and yet not. The eyes of the black dragon are nothing like they were previously, instead of tight with suspicion and intent to kill; now they just seemed remorseful. This doesn't make sense. I thought that dragon was supposed to kill me. What was this suppose to mean?

Looking back to the little Terror, he stares at me, then to the dragon, and then points its head towards where my willow is. What did this Terror want me to do? The Terror warbles to the black dragon and I look back at the green eyed dragon as it got closer to me again. My panic rising up, it stops its advances on me as I look back to the little Terror, my breathing shallow and eyes frantic as I look back to it and the black dragon really fast.

The black dragon growls slightly at this and the Terror gives it a sharp look before warbling comfortingly at me, then crawling in really close to the both of us, and giving each of us a lick. The black dragon doesn't mind too much, just giving a roll of its eyes before they both look back to me expectantly. I give a confused look to the Terror and it rolls its eyes before it starts to warble at me.

It looks at me and the black dragon and then it starts to use sounds often used when it would visit my willow tree. The Terror carefully grasps one of my hands, careful not to cut it on its teeth when putting it near the black dragon, then I look into the glowing green eyes of said black dragon, and lastly the Terror warbles the willow tree at me. My eyes expand as realization hits me. The Terror wanted me to go back to the willow tree and that the black dragon would be the one to take me there.

I stare back into the Terror's eyes, panic once again on my face. This dragon had tried to _kill_ me and this Terror wanted me to go with it as if nothing had happened? No, no, no, no, no, no, _no. _There is no _way_ I'm going anywhere with this potential killer. He could, well, _kill me._

The Terror looks at me funny, gives a rumble, and then comes close with its teeth out, giving my nose a nip before giving me a scolding warble, looking back at the black dragon. I follow its gaze and then look back towards the area where my willow tree was.

I know that I was being childish, that I should try to get home if for nothing else, then to apply medical attention to my leg, which was burning at this point, but I was only five, that dragon had tried to kill me, and it wasn't easy to get over that. The pain in my leg though convinced me that, for now though, I should trust these dragons to not get me killed, even if one had already tried. Besides, if I were to die, it would be just the same results I had thought would happen just moment earlier, so there was nothing to lose from the now compared to the very recent past. But there was something to gain if I didn't die, and that would be the ability to fix my leg, forget this ever happened, hope that the black dragon will forever leave me alone, and live happily with the Terrors, animals, and take care of the silver pup.

The dragons must have noticed the change through my eyes, for moments later, the black one had my torso in its gummy mouth, the Terror grabbed my bad leg, and they started to take off towards the willow tree. I never lasted the flight, the pain of my leg and bruised body being moved so suddenly shot so much pain through me that I blacked out…again.

(Line break)

A worried howl breaks into my senses as I wake up, the events from earlier rushing into me as I look around, trying to pin the location of my movers, specifically the black dragon, but its nowhere in sight. I sigh in relief and look around again, taking in my surroundings and realize that I'm back in my shack, back in the willow tree.

Another howl pierces the air and I recognize the sound being from the silver pup, a howl full of worry, a sound that he only made if I had been wounded. I give a quick whistle, hoping to tell the pup, even if I couldn't see him from where I was and not wanting to move, knowing how painful it was from before, that I was okay and to not worry. This seems to calm the pup from wherever he was since the noise stops, though once that noise stops another one alerts me to the presence of a dragon right by the opening to the shack, its claws scraping the wood as it moves forward and warbles at me.

At least this one I'm familiar with. It's a Terrible Terror, and just my luck, its one that helped the black dragon move me today. At least I didn't stay out for a whole day like last time; the sun was still in the sky today, just lower, like around noon or so.

The Terror clambers over to me and warbles affectionately at me, cuddling up in my arms. I scratch at its sensitive scales and it melts in my arms, moving its tail in pleasure. Unfortunately for me, the tail swipes and hits me in my broken leg.

I yelp in pain and drop the dragon in my lap, who then gets close and chirps an apology over and over at me. I smile and scratch it under its chin, saying with my eyes and actions that it was alright. But I knew differently, it wasn't alright.

I'm thinking that what the dragon just did wasn't alright, though it hurt, it was an accident and forgivable. But not being able to move, to get my supplies if I couldn't move to them, and having an injury that stops me from getting food for both me and the silver pup is a problem that could get both of us killed.

The Terror comes close to me and before I know it, its tongue flicks out right between my eyebrows where they were scrunched up together, warbling questionably at me. I sigh and look at my leg pointedly, then point a finger to my stomach and outside to where the pup was, hoping to get the message across. The Terror flies out of the shack, leaving me to look at where it was with a question mark, asking if it realized that I couldn't feed it anymore and so it left. That put a sad look on my face, but it left before long when it returned with a fish in its mouth and landing it right on my lap. I stare at it, my stomach starting to rumble, and the Terror chirps a laugh at it. My face going red I take the fish, thank the Terror with my eyes, and eat it raw. It wasn't the first time I had done that and it certainly wouldn't be the last since I practically lived with dragons as neighbors that when giving a gift, expected me to eat it like them since it was a gift _from them_ and so I had to eat it _like them._ It wasn't so bad after a little while.

After finishing off the fish, an idea struck me. The Terror looks at me curiously as I start to beam at it and make gestures really fast. Too fast I realize as the Terror stares up at me in confusion. It was perfect though, if I couldn't get my stuff, maybe the dragon could!

I look at the Terror, point to my bag from across the shack, and make a pulling motion with my hands and the little dragon springs to life, pulling the bag to me and I smile at him, reaching my hands out to take the bag and look inside. My smile falters a little though, seeing that I don't have all the things I needed to set my leg straight in hopes it would heal so I could walk again.

Noticing my smile falter, the Terror warbles at me in question, and I point to my bag and then point to the outside of the bag, making it seem like there were items missing. A warble of sadness comes out of the dragon, then one of determination as it looks me straight in the eyes, asking me what I need. A fond smile appears on my face as I see how much this little dragon was willing to help me.

Thinking fast, I look into the bag and see that I have most of my medical supplies (cloth strips, vials, balms, some dried herbs, and a small knife.), but to set my leg straight when it hurt so much to just move, I would need a few more things, like painkillers (black willow root), fresh water (just in case), and long, thick, straight sticks to wrap by my leg after painfully (since it hurt so much just to move) setting it.

I look at the Terror, the determination still on his face, and mine now matching his as I try to explain what I need.

First would be the painkillers, taking those in many doses since they take a while to actually take effect and I needed it to be strong enough I could operate on myself while still conscious. Making eye contact, I point to the tree and then make a flat surface with my arm, having my other arm be the tree with my fingers being the roots below the flat arm. I look at the dragon, and then look hard at the fingers, hoping that the dragon got the message. He didn't. He looked rather confused and I decided to try something out. I warbled at the dragon, using the sounds he made when talking of my home.

The stunned look on the dragons face almost made me burst out laughing if the dragon didn't then start to make lots of sounds. I look at the Terror confused and he seems to get the message, stopping its jumps around the room. I warble again at him, hoping to get it right again. **"Blck w-willow tr-ee," **and the dragon scoffs a bit before making noises in its own throat, just a bit more clearly than mine and I try again. **"Black willow tree?" **

This seems to make the Dragon ecstatic since it starts to warble that over and over around the shack since I said it right. I try to gain its attention and give out a short, but loud, whistle. It turns towards me, a little put out I guess since I didn't growl and make more noises like the dragons, but seemed to realize, I hoped, that my vocabulary was limited even if I got most of what the dragons were saying.

I say again while holding up my hand "**Black willow tree,"** and then I make the same motions as earlier, show one hand picking a finger, and then putting it in my mouth, then pointing to my leg. The dragon rushes out and arrives just a little while later with a bushel of my tree's roots in its mouth. Maybe I should get these roots from a different tree if I wanted mine to grow and live longer. That's a problem for another day though.

The Terror drops them in my lap and then holds one in its claw, warbling something at me. I listen closely, and it's the same words we were using earlier, just with a small addition. I must have looked confused since it put its snout to the bark and said **"Black willow tree,"** and then put its snout to the roots and warbled the same thing, but slightly different. I copied the sounds, but must have said something wrong since the Terror swishes its tail at my face and says it again, but slower. Oh, I missed a small pop sound when pronouncing. I try again, **"Black willow tree root,"** and the Terror jumps in joy. Now I see, he was teaching me how to speak the language of the dragons. Well, if the Terror could keep it up, this would probably save my life someday. And what better way to live in a forest with dragons who were your friend than to learn their language, especially if it seemed it could actually be spoken. Though I doubt adults could learn to speak it, too many high pitched sounds and noises you can't make unless you're young when you learn, your ears young enough to pick up on the more subtle sounds. And my throat wasn't used very much with the Viking language, having not used it since I was three, and it was just right for the molding of other tongues. Besides, I doubt I'll ever need Norse again; those Vikings would probably lose the battle with dragons eventually so I don't think I'll have any use talking in the language of a skeleton.

I reach out for a root, break a piece off and plop it into my mouth, letting the bitter taste get into my system and working so I could start soon, but I still needed the other things. I whistle sharply at the Terror, still hopping around the shack, and he turns to me, remembering the original task as I continue to chew on the bitter root. Making a cup out of my hands and bringing them up to drink, the dragon flies out immediately, only to return with water in its mouth that it offers to my hands still in the cup position. It warbles at my hands and I copy the sound, thinking the Terror was saying water. It wasn't the first time I had heard that noise when we were over by the river before, so I got it right the first time. The Terror seemed happy, until I had to let the water go and whistle a bit at him. I warbled **"Water," **and then made a sphere in the air, pointing into it. The Terror got the message and his mistake and returned with my water skin, only for me to open it and find it empty.

"**Water?" **I warbled at the Terror, who appeared confused since he brought the right item, only to understand when I opened it up and showed him there was nothing in it as I shook it upside down. The Terror immediately grabbed the skin, disappeared from the shack, and returned slightly damp moments later, holding a still open water skin delicately in its teeth. I reached out and said thank you to the Terror with my eyes, since I didn't know how to directly say that in the dragons' language, though I did have an idea of how to do so from their gift giving, I really didn't want to get it wrong. At least not right now. Maybe if the Terror would be willing to teach me later I could learn more, but for now I just needed one more item before I could start.

"**Black willow tree," **I warbled to the Terror and then I pointed to a branch, but held up my hands to get the Terror to look at me. I made a bendy finger and shook my head in a negative fashion, and made a straight finger and gave a positive reaction to that. I showed with my hands that it should be around the size of my pointer finger to thumb in width and around as long as my shin, since that was where the break was, my thigh being just fine and below the knee on my shin having the break. I then held up two fingers, saying how many I wanted of this and warbled out, **"Black willow tree,"** again and shook my head while pointing to the trunk of my tree with sad eyes, asking the dragon to get it from a different willow tree and not from my home this time. He understood the first time and flew out of the shack again. I expected it to take a while for the little Terror to get to another willow tree since they were more spread out and even longer to find the branches that I needed, but he came back to me really fast again, holding branches _not_ from a willow tree. In fact, it was oak wood branches in my hand, a perfect length and width for my leg.

The Terror warbles at me, the sound at the end being the same as when talking of the willow trees, and I assume that he's saying oak tree, though I'm sure dragons have a different way of naming things. Wanting to get my pronunciation right, I try to say it right there, **"Oak tree,"** and the Terror smiles a toothy smile at me. I smile back, glad that I was picking up on the sounds correctly and faster with more practice.

I reach out for my bag, specifically the knife in it, the branches having rough bark and a few littler branches growing off of them and I then smooth them out so that I can use them. I whittle them down a layer and they become smooth and rich in color. Not being able to feel too much of my leg, the tree root taking effect, I still reach out to another piece and start my chewing. It could and would hurt so much more when I had to set the bone, having only done this for the occasional animal and dragon wing coming into my little shack, than just laying still as I have been.

I start to place all of my stuff around me and motion the dragon closer. He trots up and sits in my lap as I give my last commands of a sort for the day. I wanted to send the little one away, but knew I may have needed his help. I point to myself and make it look as if I'm sleeping and then I point to the Terror to shake me awake, putting my hand on its claw and shaking it, making it seem like I woke up because of him. The grave look in my eyes almost coerces the little Terror to agree and I give a sympathetic and grateful smile to the little one. He could have left at anytime and he stayed to help me. I knew this was going to hurt, that I was probably going to scream in pain and possibly fall unconscious, but I couldn't have that happen and a pain in my chest starts up thinking of how this poor Terror was willing to hear them in order for me to finish my medical attention on myself and to wake me up when I start to fall asleep. I thank the Terror again with my eyes, him returning a look of devotion and determinism to me, as I steel my nerves and get ready to operate.

I lean over to my leg, having myself still clothed in what I was wearing fishing being only my leather shorts and so my shin is easy to see. Grabbing another piece of root and chewing on it, I return my eyes to my leg to see how bad the damage was and it appears that I was lucky in some way.

The bone appeared to have broken cleanly, there being only one part out of place and when I ran my fingers over the bone, there was only one place it had snapped. I was really, really lucky. It appeared to be one clean break, without a lot of muscle damage and all I had to do was put it in place and then wrap it tightly to the two sticks. This wound was much easier to take care of than the others that I heal on the animals that come to my shack injured. But those guys didn't have to operate on themselves and were normally knocked out when I went to work. I didn't have that luxury.

A small rumbling sound to my right reassures me that I wouldn't fall under the blankets of sleep, reassuring me, and I look back to my leg, preparing to move the bones back into position. Reaching forward with my hands, I curl one on the bottom part of my shin and one at the top, ironing out my will, and I push the two pieces together, snapping them back into place.

Tears sting my eyes as pain still jolts up my spine, but it is diluted down due to the roots, glad that I took so many doses of them now as I know dragon or no dragon; I would have fainted from such agonizing pain. I feel around on my leg where the two bones meet and now here comes the hard part. I had to adjust the bones until they met flush against each other so that they could grow back together. This was always the most painful part, the feel of bones rubbing against each other that I myself hadn't experienced, but based off of the reactions of the animals that _were _awake after the first push, this part always sent them into the black depths of the unconscious world.

I look sharply at the dragon, both of us knowing what was coming next, and I feel the ridge between the bones where one was higher than the other and twisted to the side and I start to adjust. My vision blurs at the first movement, shivers running down my spine as if the bone were a chalk board with nails running through it, straight up my spine as a bone chilling scream echoes from my throat. I hear the silver pup howling and whimpering and when the pain recedes I whistle back to him to calm him down and then one of warning, since that probably wouldn't be the last time I screamed and this was probably the only time I would be able to answer the pup.

As I continue to move the bones, having the pieces grind against each other, my vision continues to blur, noises of pain scraping out of my throat, and blackness seeping into the edges, until a sharp feeling on my side chases them away. The Terror had bitten my right side, not my arms or hands or even my other leg, but right on the ridge where the gap between back and stomach were to meet, it both tickled and hurt, bringing me back to consciousness. I smile at the Terror, my eyes grim as that wouldn't be the last time I would have to be bitten and the Terror returning me look for look, knowing he would have to bite again while anything nearby would hear the screams.

(Line break)

I put all my efforts now into the feel of my bones, making sure that they are aligned, having to be bitten at least 5 times. Or was it 8 times? I lost count, but eventually, the bones were in place, now only needing to be wrapped up with cloth and my sticks to keep it in place. I reach over for the cloth strips, making one layer first around my leg, thinking of how the sticks would feel against bare skin for long periods of time and not liking the results, deciding to give myself a pre-wrap first. After covering my whole left leg below the knee, I grab the two sticks, positioning them on either side of the bone above the muscles in my calf. Putting them in place with one hand, I grab the longer strips of cloth and wrap just to the point that blood could flow, but nothing else would get through those streams, leaving my leg with the blood but no room to wiggle or move out of place. Good too, because that _really_ hurt, mentally cursing the dragon that made me like this to begin with.

Mental note: learn dragon language _fast_ to hopefully avoid situations like this from ever happening again.

Seeing that my work was done, I put away the other things from my bag that I didn't need away and turn my torso to the right to see the Terror passed out next to me. Looking outside, the sun setting, we must have been at this for hours.

I reach out my hand to pet the little one, giving out a whistle to the silver pup to tell him I was alright. Hearing a soft howl in return, I smile into the ever coming darkness around me while I sigh.

Looking at my leg, it wasn't likely that I would be able to move for quite a while. But at least it wasn't too bad of an injury, but I probably wouldn't be able to move at all for a few days.

A dull throb from my leg alerts me that the root was wearing off, not having taken any for a while being too focused on staying conscious and placing the bones right, as I reach into the bag for the extras from earlier. I take a piece and chew it, thankful that it was summer since I couldn't move to get my warmer clothes and not wanting to wake the Terror at my side to get them.

The pain fading and my consciousness going along with it, I placed the Terror on my lap, circled it with my arms, and got us both comfortable as I drifted off to sleep, my eyes playing tricks on my as I go, making a shadow move in the form of a dragon towards me as I drift off to sleep. Silly eyes, shadows don't move…and the last of my consciousness fades into the night.


	5. Chapter 5: One of the forests

Silence on Berk chapter 5

One of the forests

Waking in the morning, my lap warm and my stomach growling I peel my eyes back, stretching my arms into the air and yawning as I look around. The little Terror from before was peacefully snoring on my lap, the occasional puff of smoke coming and twirling out of his nostrils. Absentmindedly, I reach one hand to stroke and scratch him behind the ears as I take an inventory check of my person. Slowly, one by one I relax, move, stretch, and tighten my muscles, feeling out the bruises, scrapes, and muscle soreness from the fall, feeling the most pain in my back from hitting the tree branches, before going and looking at my leg.

A sigh escapes my throat, since I wouldn't really be able to see if my setting of the bone was perfect until _after_ the healing was done. There was no way that I would risk the bone moving from taking the sticks off and unwrapping just because I was curious. I remember doing that to a rabbit and the bone shifted out of place; we had to re-set it all over again.

That rabbit still couldn't hop around yet.

I groan a bit, realizing I probably wouldn't be able to walk for months on both legs, even though it was a clean break and I probably set it right. Well, the least I could do for now is to find a new way to walk. That medical book had something in it that would work. I think they were called crutches, but that wouldn't help me climb down a tree, walk to get the materials to make said crutches, or help with hunting, just with walking. Guess I'm trapped till I find a way down and out the tree.

My stomach rumbles again, a little louder and more demanding this time since my last meal was that fish from yesterday that the Terror gave me. The Terror shifts under my hands and yawns, a glow coming from its throat in the process. I quickly take the Terror's body in my hands and face his mouth towards the door; the Terror exhales, a plume of fire coming out of its mouth, and luckily not burning anything due to its small size, quickly going out once released as smoke filters upwards towards the tree top. The dragon peels its own eyes back and looks back at me, noticing how the sun had barely risen from the sky and gives both a curious and annoyed look to me. My stomach responds to the Terror's look and I blush as he laughs at the noise.

I put the Terror down and I cross my arms looking away, feeling embarrassed and the Terror just licks my hand before stretching itself and going towards the entrance to my shack. I whistle to it, a question in my eyes and then I hear another stomach rumble, this time not my own. I look at the Terror before he leaves and see the faint signs of embarrassment in his eyes before he chirps at me and leaves the tree. Chuckling, I relax and settle down in my spot to hopefully hear where the Terror went, closing my eyes as I did to concentrate better.

An assortment of growls, chirps, and warbles mixed in with barks and growls met my ears and I guess that the silver pup was up too. The two sounds seemed to be getting closer to each other and angrier so I put my fingers to my mouth and gave a loud scolding whistle, the kind I give them both when they either come to me injured for a stupid reason or scare another animal that came for help for their own amusement. I couldn't be having my dragon friend and wolf brother fighting each other so early in the morning. We still hadn't had breakfast yet!

I hear the scuttle of claws at the entrance of my shack and open my eyes to see the Terror with its head down, obviously remorseful as he approaches me, but stays a few feet away, almost unsure of himself.

"**Sorry,"** he warbles at me, and at least this was a sound that I could distinguish, having both the pup and the Terrors say that to me often enough after they cause lots of trouble. The rest of the sounds he makes I recognize as him just repeating sorry again and again. The Terror said _sorry_ so who was I to not forgive him. Besides no one got hurt…I hope.

I reach out my hand and the Terror looks up at me. I beckon him closer with my fingers, my palm facing the floor, and he comes closer, his eyes downcast and a flash of worry passes through them. My eyes soften at that and I give him a scratch beneath his chin and the Terror responds immediately with a purr before giving me a questioning look. I point to my leg and warble **"Thank you," **to the little Terror, startling him. I picked up more of the dragon tongue than he must have thought. No one could ever say that the dragons weren't polite since they said this every time I did _anything_ for them; I just hope it really was _thank you_ I said to the little Terror. Apparently it was since the Terror hopped in joy at the sounds. I smile at the joy and happiness that the Terror seemed to give off.

But that was short lived as our stomachs seemed to want to be known. A rumble goes through our bellies and I laugh at the noise. I turn towards the Terror and decide to make another venture into the dragon language. If I was to mess up and make mistakes, I'm sure I would be able to tell from the dragon's laughing. But hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained. **"Hungry? Fish? Eat fish?" **I warble at the Terror, albeit a little off, but he seems elated at the accuracy despite the mistakes, but then looks downcast at my leg, my inability to move.

I wave my hand in front of the Terror and then scratch him behind the ears. Smiling I warble again, **"Thank you,"** while pointing to my leg. I would be in way worse of a condition if not for the assistance of the Terror when I was putting it back together. I doubt that I'd still be alive from the black dragon either if it weren't for the Terror _talking_ to it. I chuckle a bit, thinking of that _talking_ the Terror gave that other dragon. That was one serious tongue lashing, one I had only heard when accidentally cutting myself handling my weapons, and the Terror took it upon himself to scold me.

The Terror doesn't believe the thank you and continues to warble **"Sorry,"** at me, as if it was his fault that I was injured. That doesn't make sense though. The Terror is the only reason I'm probably still alive and it was the black dragon that dropped me from above the tree lines. How could such an innocent and kind little dragon think that way about something that wasn't even his fault? Almost like my life back in Ber- '_No,'_ I cut that thought off immediately, _'I have no life before this forest. Berk doesn't exist to me and this is my life now.'_

The Terror notices a tightening in my eyes and starts to back away, still saying sorry the whole time. I soften and look hurt, that the Terror would back away as if I were to strike him. I'm of the forest and I would never hurt outside of the hunt now. Didn't the Terror realize that?

"**No fa-ault you. Help me, no fa-ault you. Big drrragon do, no-o you." **I warble to the little Terror, pointing to my leg, and his own speech stops, his apologies caught in his throat as he stares up at me, his eyes huge and it makes me chuckle a little. I really did pick up a lot of the dragon language. I could understand them extremely well due to my memory and such, but I couldn't speak it well, my throat not too accustomed to making such sounds. Based on the hidden amusement in the dragon's eyes, I guess I might have said it wrong, but I hope that I got my point across to the Terror. **"Thank you. You help me. Thank you." **I tell the Terror again, my eyes warm as our stomachs rumble for a third time. Looking to my leg, I wonder how I'm going to get any food while I'm injured. Or how the silver pup would get food either.

My memories from the attack call themselves upon me and I remember the month's worth of fish that I dropped to the silver pup and just hope that he didn't eat them all and still had them. That's probably the main source of food for us now until I can go hunting again, which won't happen until I can move. Even then, how was the pup to get the food up here to me?

I sigh and the Terror looks up at me and whimpers, I guess now thinking along the lines of how I would survive without my ability to move too. I shrug, looking towards the dragon and an idea hits me, my eyes lighting up as I look towards the Terror, hope evident on my face, making the Terror pause in its noise. If the Terror was still feeling bad about my leg, even if I made it clear that I was fine and not his fault, then maybe he could help me until I was up and on my own two feet. If I was lucky, I would get to learn more dragon speech too.

I smile at the Terror who tilts his head at my sudden change in attitude. Remembering all the times I spent with the Terrors, I try to speak again, **"You stay help fish me. You food me thank you." **I know that I said things weird or that I didn't get the grammar right, but I know the words I said, _I hope they were the right words anyways_, and look towards the Terror, glad to see a sort of understanding in its eyes as it leaps to the ground and out of my sight. I take that as a confirmation as I hear more growls, chirps, warbles, and barks coming from the outside. As the warbles continue, the pup makes a resolved growl and the Terror warbles out a **"Thank you,"** to the silver pup. I wonder if the animals can understand one another. That would explain how the silver pup and Terror got into so much trouble _together_. I wonder if all animals understand each other even though they speak different languages.

My thoughts trailing ahead, thinking of all those times I saw animals interacting with one another, I can't believe I never thought of this before. All those times that _different_ animals came to me in trouble and I never questioned why they were okay with the silver pup and Terrible Terror, predators, being so close to them as I myself, also a predator to them, worked on their injuries. Then what about when animals hunt? Was there some kind of unspoken rule in the forest for the animals? Something that had the animals being able to communicate, but still hunt one another?

My musing was cut off as a scratching noise hits my ears and the smell of fish hit my nostrils as I look towards the entrance to my shack to see the Terrible Terror dragging two of my fish from the big catch into the shack. He trots over to me, dragging the fish and drops one in front of me while he takes the other one and proceeds to rip and tear it apart in its feasting. I warble a **"Thank you for fish."** to the Terror and grab my own to eat as the Terror takes a quick pause in its own eating, to respond to me, **"You're welcome _" **and continues to tear its fish apart.

Fish in hand, I file that other sound of chirping and growls to the back of my mind to ask of the Terror later. It was the sounds that the other animals called me, though I never really knew what they were saying. I knew what _'human'_ was in their languages as they cursed their existences and that was the first thing that the animals called me before getting to know me. but I also knew that what they called me wasn't _'human'_ one they got to know me better so there must have been something else that they were all calling me. Who could blame me if I was curious to what they called me, but that would have to be answered later, my stomach twisting inside me, demanding food and the smell of fish, raw or not, was enough to make me ravenous.

I bring the fish closer to my mouth and bit into it, careful to make sure that I don't move the scales a lot on the fish so that they stayed together on the skin. I move the fish around in my mouth, making the flesh of the fish in my mouth be towards the throat and the skin by my lips, on the other side of my teeth as I bite down, separating the skin, _or at least most of it_, from the rest of the flesh of the fish. Even a day or two old, the fish is delicious, but after a few more days, I also know that I will need to treat them and ready them for drying so that they keep longer.

I spit the skin into my hands and notice the Terror gazing up at me, hunger in its eyes as they flash between me and the piece of skin in my hands.

"**What?"** I ask the Terror, looking beside him to see that the Terror had already finished his whole fish, not even the bones being left behind. My guess since their droppings never had any bones in them, I would know from the hunting trips and living really close to the Terrors, was that the Terrors and dragons could actually break the bones down and that the dragons had a very strong digestive system, the muscles and intestines all coated with an acid to break things down and the intestines themselves move and break things down, as if crushing them with rocks, leading me to believe that they are tough on the inside too.

The Terror gazes intently on my hand before warbling at me what he says every time I eat fish with the Terrors.

"**Are you going to finish that?"**

I laugh at the Terror, his face all serious as I gaze back at my hand, deciding to tease the little Terror.

"**No, and you no eat fish too."** I tell the Terror, who looks back at me, completely aghast at what I was telling him. I always gave him my left over fish skins.

"**Then are you going to eat it _?"** The Terror asks me, eyeing the skin still. I did tell him I wasn't going to eat it, didn't I. Maybe he didn't believe me.

"**I no eat fish you no eat fish."** I gaze into the Terror's eyes, holding the piece of fish skin and scales above the Terror, moving it out of the way when the Terror snaps its jaws in the air in an attempt to eat it.

"**_! Give me that fish skin if you won't eat it, I'm still hungry!"** The Terror exclaims, still trying to snap its mouth around the fish skin I continue to move away from it's soon to be destination.

"**Okay, you eat fish."** I warble to the little Terror and proceed to drop the fish skin into the waiting jaws. The Terror smacks its mouth open and closed as it eats the skin, the best part of the fish aside from the innards and head according to the dragons, before gazing back at me.

"**Okay, I eat fish and you eat more fish."** I tell the waiting Terror as I take another bite of the fish, being careful again to separate the skin from the flesh of the fish and swallow the meat for it to descend into my waiting stomach before spitting out the skin and giving it to the Terror. We keep this up until all that's really left is the bones, head, and innards, which I toss them all to the Terror who eats them up while I think of how to phrase my proposal and favor to the little Terror in the dragon tongue.

The Terror finishes up his morsel of fish, both of our stomachs sated for the moment, and I gaze into the little Terrors big eyes before venturing out my question to the Terror.

"**You help me speak dragon, help hunt, help walk. You eat fish me help you?"** I ask a tremor in my warble, but hope in my eyes that the Terror sees as his eyes soften before giving me his reply.

"**I'll be happy to help you _."** The Terror tells me. Even if I'm still curious as to what all the animals and dragons keep calling me, I'll question them later after I get used to the making the sounds of the Dragon speech to voice my question. I understand them well enough, but what they call me, it isn't like the other words that they use.

"**Thank you."** I tell the Terror, picking him up and placing him on my lap before giving him a good scratching beneath the chin, making the Terror warble out in pleasure.

We stay like that for a while until a mix between a howl and a whine breaks into our little bubble. _Silver pup_, he's still down there and I hadn't seen him since the attack. Shame colors my thoughts as I think about the pup. '_How could I have forgotten him? Even if for a little while?'_ I look to the Terror on my lap, who warbles out its disagreement for my stopping hands no longer scratching him and he gazes up at me.

"**What's wrong?" **Asks the Terror, seeing my gaze filled with pain.

"**Pup not here with me." **I tell him, giving the short version of the pain in my voice and shame in my gaze.

"**Well, yeah. That pup can't climb trees you know."** The Terror tells me as if I were stupid. Then I remember the ladder I made for the pup and a gleam fills my eyes.

"**What are you thinking _?"** The Terror asks, seeing the gleam in my eyes.

"**Tree bundle, you push out tree. Pup comes to me."** I tell the Terror, hoping that he gets it. He doesn't so I point to the outside of my shack and warble again, **"Bundle you push. Pup climb tree with bundle. I see pup again."**

The Terror looks to where I pointed and gets the message, but seems to ignore my wants and flies down the tree first. Curious, I listen in to the warbles from below and hear the conversation between my dragon friend and wolf brother.

"_**How is _? I swear if you did anything to him so help me…"**_ the silver pup growls out as soon as I hear the touch of the Terror's claws to the dirt.

"**_ is hurt on his leg but otherwise fine. You have to be careful to not touch it. I accidentally touched it before and it hurts him. Apparently _ made something to help you get into the tree, do you know what it is? It looked like a normal ladder to me, but _ just said it was a tree bundle." **The Terror questions to the silver pup.

"_**Yeah, _ is really smart and when he saw that I couldn't climb the tree he made a ladder for me to use so we could be together sometimes. But really, it's also to have me help him carry the food up here for him to prepare and dry. I know that it keeps longer that way, but it's really dry. You have to drink so much water to get it down but at least it's filling."**_

"**I know what you mean about the dried meat. I ate some last time I was here and had to go straight to the stream it was dry."**

"_**Right! It's not natural. Why can't we just go hunting every day and get new meat to eat? Wait a second…HEY; you're the one that ate my share of dinner last time!"**_

"**Yeah, yeah I ate your dinner, but you also got your slobber all over me the time before that. The smell dried onto my scales and I had to go swimming in the stream to get the smell out. I **hate **baths. Besides, _ is probably thinking of your future pup. I heard that **humans **don't hibernate in the winter and that this was how they stocked up their food. Though why did he call that ladder a tree bundle I don't know."**

"_**I think that the reason he called it a tree bundle is because he never heard us use the word 'ladder' before around him. I wouldn't be surprised though if he were listening to us now. I can't hear any big noise from him and that normally means he's being quiet and listening, almost as if he were hunting."**_

"**I wouldn't be surprised either. I mean, we talk around him a lot, but why didn't he speak to us before? Even in that cursed **human** language would have been better than not at all. Then at least we could hear exactly what he wants and means instead of trying to figure it out from all of his gesturing."**

"_**I thought that too, but why would he be out here then if he were like the other **__humans__**? No right minded leader or mother would just let their young into a dangerous to them area. My guess from spending time with him is that he **__isn't__** like those other humans. Did I tell you that he burned and broke the weapon that hurt me? Even if he could have probably used it himself to end me and any danger I could have posed to him?"**_

"**Really?"**

"_**Yeah, he saw how I reacted to the blade and destroyed it on the spot, no hesitation at all."**_

"**Wow, that's weird."**

"_**I know, but that's just how _ is. He's weird, but in a good way."**_

"**Well, are you coming up or staying down?"**

"_**I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't you DARE leave me behind without me seeing _. Even if YOU say he's fine, I want to see him for myself."**_

"**Then hurry up pup. We can't leave _ waiting forever can we?"**

My breath catches in my throat and I gaze out the shack. I heard every word that they said, but my mind wasn't on the fact that I understood every word said. Heck, my mind wasn't even on the fact that I could understand _both_ of them or that they were having a conversation together, but on how they viewed me. They thought I was weird. They said in a good way, but it didn't ever seem that being weird and abnormal is ever good. It's the runts of the litter that always get killed first in nature for being _weird_. That almost happened to me if not for becoming one of the forest, but did they think me one of the forest too? Or was I something entirely different to them.

I gaze towards the shacks entrance as I hear the scuttle of the creatures, the paws and claws on the wooden floor approaching the entrance. I look into their eyes and they stop in their tracks. The silver pup growls before launching at the Terror.

"_**You liar!"**_ the silver pup growls out while pinning the Terror to the floor, _**"You said that _ was fine. HE'S NOT FINE!"**_

"**He was fine when I left to get you!"**

"_**LIAR! Then why does he look in PAIN and his EYES DEAD! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER!"**_ The silver pup roars out, startling me as I register his words in my head.

"**Brother?"** I question the silver pup, looking him dead in the eyes, **"I'm your brother?" **

"_**That's what I said didn't I?"**_ The silver pup growls out, not noticing the lighting in my eyes as he gazed back down on the Terror.

"**I'm not weird then? I'm of the forest too?"** I question them, both who pause in their actions and the silver pup releases the Terror from the floor and they both trot over to me. Gazing into their eyes I see anger in them, directed to me, and my face falls, my thoughts pushing me to the conclusion that I'm not of the forest and that they are angry I would even say such a thing. They were of the forest, not me.

They come closer and closer until there was one on each side of me and they gaze at the other, dragon eyes to wolf eyes and a contact is made between them. At once they both bend down and nip my hands…hard.

I pull my hands up to my chest, cradling them. **"What that for? You no think me forest, just say no bite."** I tell them, hurt in my eyes.

"**You FOOL,"** the Terror says, getting on my lap and raising its face close to mine, his claws resting on my chest for balance, **"You ARE of the forest!"**

"**But you call me weird."** I tell him, my eyes becoming downcast at the mere memory.

"_**But I also called you my brother and weird in a GOOD way _. Did you not hear that part?"**_ The silver pup says, hopping into my lap too, pushing the Terror off who just chirps in displeasure at the sudden fall he took. I look away, but the silver pup growls, demanding my attention. _**"You helped me, you didn't hurt and kill an easy prey and instead healed me while the other **__humans __** had hurt me for sport. You fed me and made a home for me when I had lost everything. You are my brother in all but blood to me. Though I wish you would speak in the tongue of the wolves, I can accept the tongue of the dragons too. You are my family _. You are weird in a good way from the other **__humans__** and because of that you became one of the forests."**_

"**Really? I'm one of the forests?"**

"**YES!"** The Terror exclaims, pushing the pup off my lap, though I think that he did that to get even with the silver pup for the earlier pushing and the mischief in the Terror's eyes tell me so behind all the exasperation in his warbles. **"You don't hurt outside the hunt, you understand and help us. You are a BROTHER of a WOLF and friends with DRAGONS! _, when will you accept that you are of the forests. You seem to want it to be so, then just accept it because you ARE. You are weird in a GOOD way. If you weren't weird, then you would just be another **human**, another thing that would **never** be of the forest like us. Aren't you happy with that?"**

"**Of course I'm happy!" **I exclaim.

"_**Then why didn't you think that you were one of us?"**_

"**Because,"** I tell them, "**you called me weird. I always thought weird was bad, that if I was weird to you, then you would shun me like the **humans.**"** I say, contempt for them in my voice as it was for the others in the forest when speaking of _them_.

"**Humans are fools _."** The Terror squawks at me. "**You are of the forest and you are one of us now. We will NEVER hurt you outside the hunt and we will never hunt you, nor will the others as long as we are around."** The Terror says, licking my wounds from their harsh nips.

"_**Yeah, _. You are one of us and the forest. Don't worry anymore, okay?"**_ The silver pup asks, gazing into my eyes before he comes close to my side and purrs next to me.

"**Okay, brother."** I tell him, my vision fuzzy from tears collecting inside of them.

"**HEY,"** The Terror warbles loudly, me and the silver pup looking at him in confusion. **"I just realized, we don't need to teach you how to talk anymore!" **And he was right, I'd talked in the dragon tongue the whole time, getting the hang of it more and more with each attempt.

"**Huh,"** I look to them a smile on my face, **"Now I never have to look stupid gesturing to you guys again then." **I say, remembering all the times I wanted to get my point across and all the weird motions I did to them. My face just heats up a little thinking of how I must have looked from the outside. If it was that easy to speak in the dragon tongue, I wish I did so before.

"_**Or whistle. Do you know how loud that is to our ears? It kind of hurts _."**_ The silver pup says, raising a paw to rub against his head and ears with.

"**Whoops, sorry guys, I didn't know."** I apologize, my head going down.

"**It's fine _. You didn't know. But if you are in danger on a hunt, you better whistle to us, okay? At least before I teach you how to roar your own roar."** The Terror says before settling on my lap again.

"_**No way, I'm teaching my brother how to howl. He already speaks the dragon tongue and he's my brother so he calls for us in MY language this time."**_ The silver pup says from my side, yawning in the middle of his claim.

"**Nooooo, he learns to roar first."**

"_**Howl,"**_

"**Roar,"**

"_**HOWL"**_

"**ROAR"**

"**STOP, I'll learn both how about that?"** I tell them, trying to make peace between my brother and best friend.

"**Fine/**_**fine."**_ They say at the same time, both settling down around me becoming tired. The sun was high and it was still morning, but we were all so emotionally drained and I guess we didn't get a lot of sleep anyways. And a nap never hurt so I start to settle down with them, but something prickles at my mind, keeping me up.

"**Hey guys,"** I ask them, waking them from their almost slumber.

"**Wha-/**_**Yeah, _."**_

"**That. What does _ mean? You all call me _, even the other animals."**

"**Oh that. That means 'One of Borrowed Skin'. Kind of like you're an animal of the forest, but without claws, fur, or anything else that makes you an animal of the forest on your own. We all accept you as one of us, you don fur and claws and work by the laws of the forest, but you weren't born with them from the beginning. The shorter version we call you is lantaker, or borrower. We've been calling you Lantaker the whole time, but now I guess we can ask for your real name now huh."**

The Terror looks up at me and the silver pup does the same, both with a curiosity in their gazes.

"**I wasn't liked by the **humans** and so I don't want the name they gave me either. They wanted me gone and I am. Can you all just keep calling me Lantaker?"**

"**Sure/**_**sure,"**_They both respond readily to my request, even if the curiosity was still in their eyes. Now I can finally ask my name game question. Honestly, I was getting a little tired of calling them by their breed or species. If they gave me a name, then they must have names too.

"**I've been meaning to ask you two,"** I start of saying, my voice wavering a little in embarrassment, my cheeks heating up from what I was about to ask even though we'd known each other for a while now…two months actually, **"What are your names?"** My voice asks, surprisingly steady even though the blush I know I was sporting was probably still on my face.

The two just make eye contact before falling in a big laughing mess even though they were tired earlier.

"**I can't believe you would ask that-" **The Terror starts out saying before running out of breath leaving the silver pup to finish for him.

"_**-after knowing us for so long. I thought you knew them already."**_

Seeing the dumb look on my face, they try to quell their laughter before looking me in the eyes, remembering that I didn't really know what they said until half an hour ago. I'll have to ask them about that latter though, filing it away for further questioning.

The Terror starts out first. **"I am called Sharptongue, mainly because of the fact that I can't let people get away with doing something they shouldn't even if I'm at a disadvantage and probably would have done the same things with similar results. But that would be my problem and I don't let those important to me get hurt. I know real original, I can't believe my parents named me that, and I give a tongue lashing to anyone that makes fun of it, but I happen to be one of the more logical Terrible Terrors that you'll meet so I don't really mind. Also don't try to trick me or pull a fast one over me. I ALWAYS get even."** Sharptongue ends his introduction to me, giving a pointed look to the silver pup who grumbles about stolen food and wet fur before putting his paws on my chest and getting closer to me.

"_**As you know, I was young when hurt by those **__humans__**, but I was given one great thing by my parents and that is my name. They saw my fur and how it was a mixture of theirs, my mother being silver and called moonshine while my father was a pure black wolf called nightshadow, both being able to hide in their colors perfectly, my mother in the day and my father in the night. Me, being a mix of both, called me Eclipse since I could hide they said as a newborn pup in both the light and the darkness and took the best of both. And I agree with Sharptongue on never trying to trick him. Last time I did so, you'll remember, I had barbs in my fur that weren't exactly easy to get out and you had to cut off some of it."**_ Eclipse growls out while staring at Sharptongue pointedly as I chuckle reliving that memory. Even though I'd only known them for two months, they gave me so many memories, just about all of them being good. Except for the tongue lashings I would get from Sharptongue. Even if I didn't know the exact words used, it still made me feel like a child full of incompetence. Thinking back on it, yep, Sharptongue diffidently earned his name.

Almost as if in sync, all three of us yawn and I absentmindedly lift Sharptongue to point him away as the fire comes out of his muzzle before setting him down on my lap.

"**I don't know about you guys, but I'm tired. Could you pass me the tree roots before you pass out Eclipse? They kind of help with the pain and I can't really get up right now. Then I promise we can go to sleep."** I ask, pleading with both my voice and my eyes.

"_**Fine, but you have to make room on your lap for me when I get back."**_

"**OH, and also my furs please? I'm** **kind of called borrower for a reason and I don't think constantly sleeping in just shorts is going to help me get better."**

"_**Mnph,"**_ Is the only response I receive before Eclipse trots in with both my bag and a fur blanket it his mouth. Silently, I shift Sharptongue over and move my right leg a bit before trying to lie down. The pain starts to shoot up from my left leg and I reach for the bag and pull out the willow tree roots and munch on them before trying to move again. When my leg starts to just throb and go partially numb, I shift again, making my body flat with the floor and moving Sharptongue for a second to put the furs over my body. I couldn't be having them suffocate under the furs. What kind of a friend/brother would that make me?

After getting that all situated, Eclipse moves upon me at once, encompassing my leg in an embrace before snoring off. I place Sharptongue on my other leg and settle down for the morning to join them in sleep. Faintly, my eyes wander about and it reminds me of the other night, and I feel like I'm missing something before my eyes close and I fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6: Unexpected brothers

Silence on Berk chapter 6

Unexpected brothers

A sharp pain coming from my left leg wakes me up and I immediately look down to see Eclipse gnawing on it slightly, still asleep, moonlight playing on his fur. My hand moves towards him, to wake him up, but the moment my fingers contact his fur, he bites down harder before mumbling about five more minutes. I don't really hear that though, as the pain enters my mind, making me yelp out and my body to convulse slightly in pain, effectively waking the two slumbering on my legs.

"_**Wha, *yawn* what did you wake us up for Lantaker?" **_asks Eclipse, groggily looking up at me, drool connecting his muzzle to my injured leg. His face grows more and more annoyed as he looks up towards the openings in the shack to see it dark outside before returning his stare to me.

I don't respond and just reach out for my bag, moving my leg slightly electing another yelp of pain from my lips in the process and Sharptongue gets the hint before me asking and just moves the bag closer to me. Reaching out, I snatch it from his snout and grab a root before chewing on it, letting the effects wear in. Looking outside, I see how dark it is and realize why they must be annoyed with me. Honestly, I'm annoyed myself_. 'I've got to stop passing out and waking up at random times. Totally screwing with me sleep schedules,'_ I think, sighing at the other thought that sleeping regularly might not happen for a long time, needing rest to heal my leg, before looking towards my annoyed companions.

"**Well? We're waiting."** Sharptongue said, the annoyance, as expected, clearly in his warble. Even though I thought Sharptongue would get it right away from me wanting the root that I was hurt or from Eclipse since he was the cause, neither seem to realize what woke me was Eclipse's biting. But I did wake them up in the middle of the night, even if it was clearly justified so I slowed my chewing and stared back apologetically, angry a little at their annoyed and slightly accusing looks, but still apologetic, not speaking due to the roots in my mouth. Watching them, their expressions turn to surprise and then horror. I tilt my head in confusion at that, but Eclipse quickly takes one look at me and turns to Sharptongue, the horror clear on both of their faces.

"_**OH CRAP! You don't think that he forgot how to speak do you? He's gone back to the looks again. And after that will come this whistling. NOT THE WHISTLING!"**_ Eclipse whined out, howling at the end of his speech and I continue chewing, pretending to not know what was going on, curious to see how this would go while forcing my laughter down. They hurt me, even without knowing it and were blaming me for something not in my control. It wasn't my fault that Eclipse bites at night. Besides, they never said until yesterday that they didn't like the whistling. They could have told me someway before and I would have found a way around it, so really it was their fault for not voicing their opinions earlier. As for the bite, the least I could do is tease them for thinking I woke them up of my own free will. I look towards Eclipse and then to Sharptongue, forcing my features into one of confusion, tilting my head the other way, and laugh on the inside as Sharptongue starts giving his own input to my silence.

"**No, Eclipse. It doesn't end there." **Sharptongue says his voice hollow as he stares straight into his wolf companion's eyes.

"_**What do you mean? NOTHING is worse than the whistling!"**_ Eclipse howls out, but taking a look at Sharptongue's face makes his own warp into fear. _**"Gasp, you don't mean…"**_

"**Yes, that's right."**

"_**But, but, it's not natural. IT'S WRONG!"**_ Eclipse howl out loud looking Sharptongue deep in the eyes, but receives only resignation. Curious and wanting to keep with the charade, I whistle slightly getting both of their attention on me, keep my head tilted, and gesture between the two of them then point to my wrinkled forehead, trying to mimic what I used to do…before yesterday. Wow, it really hasn't been that long since I learned or started to speak dragon.

Eclipse gets a strange look in his eyes, seeing me gesture and before I can register what's happening, he reaches up and bites my pointing hand. Yelping at him, I pull my hand back towards my chest, cradling it with the other, and whistle at him, hoping just a little that it hurt his ears. I mean, he bites _hard_.

"**Eclipse,"** Sharptongue exclaims, wincing at my whistling a bit before returning to his scolding tone at his wolf companion, **"what did you do that for!?"**

"_**It had to be done,"**_ he replies back, _**"he finally stopped whistling and gesturing yesterday. If he were to stop talking like he is now, I think I can handle the whistling, but if I have to look at another unnatural gesture dance again then I think I might just bite his hands off."**_

"**You can't be serious about that."** Sharptongue says, but then grows shocked when looking into Eclipse's face. Heck, I'm having a hard time keeping the shock off of my own face, wondering if I may have taken the teasing too far.

"**You are,"** was all that was said by Sharptongue, both of us looking at the resigned and determined look in Eclipse's eyes as he inches towards me and my injured hand. I can't keep the shock off of my face though when Sharptongue turns away, leaving me to catch the whispers of **"do what you must,"** in his warble, carried to both of our ears and strengthening the look of resolve in Eclipse's eyes as he got permission from the Terror for whatever he was going to do to me next. Terror grips my heart and fear for my hands leads me to break this charade.

"**STOP! LEAVE MY HANDS ALONE!"** I screech out in Dragonese, putting both hands behind me and effectively stopping the would-be assaulters in their tracks.

"_**Lantaker, you can talk? You can speak with us?"**_ Eclipse whines out, looking up at me with hope shining in his and the Terror's eyes as both of them take small steps towards me.

"**Yes,"**

"_**You won't whistle anymore?"**_

"**Yes,"**

"**You won't make gestures anymore?"**

"**Yes,"**

"_**I don't have to bite of your hands anymore?"**_

"**Dear Odin YES, and don't you dare think of doing that EVER again might I add."**

"**Then why,"** Sharptongue starts to say, **"WHY IN ALL THAT IS NATURAL AND RIGHT IN THE WORLD WOULDN'T YOU TALK!" **He exclaims, roaring at the end and jumping on my lap, pinning me with his sharp talons.

"_**Hey, YEAH, why didn't you talk?! I almost bit your hands off Lantaker!"**_ Eclipse scolds me, coming up besides Sharptongue to give me a little scolding of his own, his teeth bared to show his displeasure with my actions.

"**Because it wasn't my fault that I woke you guys up."**__I tell them, looking into their confused and disbelieving faces.

"_**Huh/**_**huh." **Was their reply to me, before Sharptongue decides to be the voice of the two this time, **"What do you mean? Of COURSE it's your fault. YOU woke US up, remember? Not the other way around. And if it wasn't your fault, then whose?"**

Looking at them and then back to my wrapped leg still moist with Eclipse's drool, I just raise my hand and point to Eclipse, hoping that they get the message. Apparently not as I feel teeth nipping at my finger…again.

"_**I swear Lantaker, didn't we say no more gesturing?! Now spill, if it wasn't your fault then whose!"**_ Eclipse barks out at me as I return my hand and now bleeding finger to my chest to cradle as I look back at him, anger in my eyes.

"**It's YOUR FAULT!"** I screech out, making both of their ears wince. But after getting over the pain and slight hearing loss, all I'm met with is anger directed at me.

"_**WE were ALSEEP until YOU woke us UP. So HOW IN ALL THAT IS NATURAL AND GOOD COULD IT HAVE BEEN OUR FAULT WE WOKE UP?!"**_

"**YEAH, YOU'RE THE ONE THAT WOKE US UP. IT'S YOUR FAULT!"**

Seeing their accusing glances at me, their anger pointed at my direction my vision blurs slightly. Why? Eclipse was the one to bite me and cause me pain, so why were they blaming me?

"**WE WERE ALL FINE UNTILL YO- uh, Lantaker, why are you looking at us like that?"** Asks Sharptongue, quieting down and dropping from my lap tilting his head, but no matter how much I try to focus on his face, I just can't. There's too much water in the way. Was it raining?

"_**Lantaker, why aren't you answering us? Why is there water coming from your eyes? WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING US LANTAKER?" **_ Eclipse states, his howls worried as he joins Sharptongue in questioning. What was that he said? Water was coming from my eyes?

I reach up my unbitten hand to my face to feel streaks of dampness on my cheek and found my vision to become clearer with every blink before the water came back to my eyes, what was previously there pouring down my face and then falling into my lap. I silently put my wet finger to my mouth and lick it, finding the water to be salty, not unlike pickled fish and diffidently not clear and pure like rain or spring water. Memory hits me and the meaning of the water becomes clear. I'm crying.

My body starts to sob and they both come closer, not knowing what was going on, but wanting to comfort me anyways, even if they didn't really realize that they were the cause of my momentary grief. They didn't believe me and wouldn't let me explain, immediately saying that it was my fault even when I wanted to tell them the truth. When I pointed at the reason and said, or screeched, whose fault it was, they didn't believe me.

"_**Brother, calm down. Why are you crying? Why won't you tell us?"**_

"**Yeah Lantaker, you can trust us. Now what's wrong?"**

They both told me in calm and comforting voices, but that just made me sob harder.

"…**Ec..ps…b.t me…." **I mumble out between sobs.

"_**Huh/**_**huh, what was that?"** they ask, coming closer and making purring sounds out of their throats in an attempt to calm me.

"**I said 'Eclipse bit me' all right. He bit my leg and it hurt so I woke up in pain."**

My little confession sends both of them quiet for a second before **"Well why didn't you tell us that when we woke up?!"** Sharptongue cries out.

"**I DID TELL YOU."** I warble out, slightly frustrated with them now. Man, having an injury, having your hands threatened to be bitten off, and being sleepy even if you slept all day sure gives mood swings, especially if your companions don't listen to you.

"_**No you didn't. You just sat there quietly and made us think you forgot how to speak. By the way you are **_**forbidden**_** from ever doing that again, do I make myself clear."**_

"**No, think back to when you asked me whose fault it was. Who did I point to again, before I was bitten?"** I ask, looking Eclipse dead in the eyes as I wipe my tears off of my face with my palms. Seeing the blank look on Eclipses face, I feel my own begin to fall. I turn my gaze to Sharptongue, knowing he was the smarter and more rational of the two, and see a look of comprehension pass on his face.

"**Well, it seems like you figured it out Sharptongue, so why don't you enlighten us?" **At my word, Eclipse turns his face sharply to look at the guilty and downtrodden face of Sharptongue.

"_**What is he talking about Sharptongue?"**_

"**Well, when we did ask him, he pointed his finger straight at you before you bit him. And then again when we asked, he looked at you and said that it was your fault. We didn't listen to hear anymore of his explanation and blamed him, not thinking that there could have been another reason." **Sharptongue explained, looking down cast and his warbles tinged with regret. After hearing Sharptongue's explanation, Eclipse starts to gain a more guilty expression by the second, hearing every argument that his dragon friend made in my defense. **"And it doesn't stop there."** Hearing that from Sharptongue, Eclipse snaps his head back up, looking deep into his eyes trying to make sense of what Sharptongue was implying.

"_**What do you mean it doesn't stop there?"**_ he whines with a mixture of fear in his whines, trying to realize what Sharptongue had already guessed and what I had known from the beginning.

"**Remember when he woke us up? What was the first thing that he did? He didn't talk to us or touch us. What did he do?" **Sharptongue's warbles get quiet asking this, making the both of us strain to hear as I watch the realization dawn in Eclipse's face.

"_**He went to grab the bag, the bag that has the painkilling roots in it. He didn't talk because of the roots in his mouth and he's to polite to speak with his mouth full."**_ Eclipse grumbles out, regretting thick in his voice.

"**Yeah, and all we did was blame him." **He warbled silently.

Seeing the guilt on their faces, the looks and flashes of pain in their eyes brought on another round of tears from mine. They were like my family now. I didn't want to make them sad.

They kept their faces down, but their snouts flared and they gazed back up at me, aghast at seeing the water in my eyes and flowing down on my cheeks.

"**Why are you crying again? What did we do?"** Sharptongue immediately asks, coming up to me as did Eclipse.

"_**Tell us, I swear we'll listen,"**_ came the reply from Eclipse, also coming close. They both inched their way onto my lap, sharing it with one hind claw and paw each on the legs as they rested their front paws/claws on my shoulders. My throat tightened at the look of concern on their faces and I just couldn't speak. These two were worried for me, and not just because I got them food like I thought at first, but for _me._ They were my everything now and all I did was yell at them for something Eclipse did while unconscious. Even now, they were willing to listen and that was more than anyone had ever done for me before.

Their tongues dart out and lick my face, taking my tears with them and I just feel the wetness from within my core come out even stronger. I wrap my arms around them and pull them closer to me. My throat still constricting from the emotions swirling inside me, I choke out, **"Thank you,"** to the two on my lap. They just continue licking my face, though I know they heard me since a soft purring accompanied their licks.

Sniffling, I pull my head back and the tears start to ebb away, the tracks on my cheeks now of drool and saliva from my brother and friend. Though thinking of Sharptongue as a friend was a bit of a stretch, he felt more like a brother to me now, almost as much as Eclipse.

"**Would it be okay,"** I start to say, looking at them both, **"To call both of you my brothers?"**

My voice was a bit wavering at asking that, out of fear of rejection, but the both of them just look back at me, their eyes kind.

"**Would you like that?"** Questions Sharptongue, **"Are you okay being the brother of both a dragon and a wolf? I know that you're fine with Eclipse since he was the first you had met in the forest and had bonded with him then and all, but are you okay with a dragon?" **

Seeing the hopeful look on his face and hearing the slight hesitance in his warble, I gain a piece of confidence and question him back. **"I'm still technically a human, something that hurts without cause or care. I could've been just like **them**. I probably still can. My question to you is are you fine with having a human as a brother?"**

The reaction is immediate. **"Yes of course. That doesn't matter to me. You're more of the forest than anything else anyways."** Sharptongue exclaims, reaching forward and nuzzling into my chest, his head rubbing against me. I reach my hand and start to pet him, scratching his scales and eliciting a deep rumble from his throat.

"**Then why should you being a dragon matter to me? I already have a wolf as a brother, so why would you be any different?"** I tell him, feeling the nuzzling increase and the purrs escalate in happiness, and then look towards Eclipse. **"That is, if you are still fine with having a human as a brother?"**

"_**What kind of question is that? OF COURSE it's fine. I told YOU that you're my brother first so why would it ever be a problem? I'm almost a little insulted you would say so."**_ Eclipse grumbles out, nuzzling into my other side and against my ribs, trying to gain my attention. I lift my hand and start to stroke his fur and scratch behind his ears. He nuzzles harder into my hand and purrs. A sting in my hand causes me to flinch and twitch before I go back to scratching him, but he notices.

"_**Lantaker, what's wrong?"**_He questions, pulling back from my hand, his nose twitching as he smells the air. Sharptongue follows suit until he gasps, looking at my hand.

"**Lantaker, you're hurt. When did that happen?"** Sharptongue questions me, coming closer and licking the blood pouring from my finger. I look towards Eclipse who has his head down and I sigh, reaching my now free hand towards him while answering Sharptongue.

"**Well, it may have happened when I was making gestures, something I'm never doing again mind you, and there may have been a negative reaction between my actions and Eclipse over here."** Seeing Eclipse flinch at that, I quickly continue my talking though. **"But it's fine. That's what I get for looking like a clown. I can't be some weirdo if I'm to be the brother of a dragon and a wolf, now can I?"** My words make both of them look up to me as I smile down at them.

"_**Yeah, that's right. We can't be having just anyone become the brother of a wolf, now can we." **_Eclipse growls out in happiness, coming close and licking my face. Giggles escape from my lips as I look out to see Sharptongue come over with the root in his mouth and some gauze in his claws.

"**Thad's righ. You're da broder of a draon doo naw. He'e. For da cu'" **Sharptongue says before dropping what he was holding in his mouth into my lap before taking place next to me on my other side, licking the other half of my face.

"**Stop you guys, I can't see."** And I couldn't. Heck, I was having problems talking, afraid that their tongues were too close to my mouth for comfort. They might have been my brothers, but drool was drool and I didn't want ANY to get into my mouth. Having the occasional drooled on by a dragon or wolf fish was more than enough for me.

They stop their attacks on my face and I giggle at their put-out faces when I push them off my lap. **"Come on, I need to wrap my finger and then we have to sort some stuff out. Like how are we going to eat after the fish runs out and how to keep them good until they do? Can you pass me that gauze Eclipse and can you bring me my vials from the other shack Sharptongue, the ones that I used on my leg." **I ask them, biting into the root on my lap as they spring into action. I chuckle a little at their enthusiasm. I guess that even if I'm only five, I'm probably more like the older brother to the two of them, having been the one to keep them out of trouble and to feed them, clean their occasional injuries, and spoil them rotten with all the petting. Thinking back on my crying though, now that being the older brother is on my mind; my cheeks start to heat up. I'm supposed to be the older brother and there I am, bawling my eyes out in front of my two new little brothers simply because they didn't listen to me. They didn't listen to me before when I told them not to cause trouble, but I can't believe that I would cry like that in front of them. How embarrassing. I can't believe that I did that. Well, no more crying from now on. I have to be the strong big brother, even if I'm still injured. After all, I'm the one bringing in the food and even now I'll find a way to do that. I promise.

I look over to see Eclipse going to grab the gauze in his mouth. **"Eclipse, stop. Can you bring that to me not in your mouth? I can't really use them if there's drool coating it. Not exactly the most sanitary thing ever." **I tell him, though really, the gauze itself being handled by animals and touching the ground probably wasn't sanitary either, but at least then it's dry. Eclipse nods and reaches out his paws and puts it on one before walking towards me with three legs. I reach out to take it from him, thanking him, when we then hear a scuffle of claws on the ground near the shack's entrance. Sharptongue comes in with the vials on his back, careful to not tilt too much in any direction while he walks towards us. I chuckle as I reach out and take the load off of his back before scratching under his chin. A whine from my right makes me look over to see a flash of jealousy in Eclipse's eyes before laughter bubbles up in my throat and I pull my hand back from a whining Sharptongue and scratch Eclipse behind his ears.

"**Come on you guys. The sooner I get my hand bandaged, the sooner I can scratch both of you. I have two hands for a reason you know."** I tell them, getting understanding nods from them making me laugh harder at their expressions of seriousness. It's as if the only reason I have two hands to them now is so that I can give them both a scratching at the same time.

I reach both hands to the vials and I open one up, the smell of herbs hitting our noses before I dip two of my left hand fingers in the mixture and pull them out, closing the vial. I reach towards my bitten right hand and put the mixture on the cuts circling my finger, wincing slightly at the sting, causing my brothers to wince in return before I smile at them, calming them down. I wipe the excess on my leather pants, knowing that it'll dry without leaving much of a stain or sent after time and grab the gauze to wrap my finger with. I do so and then flex my right hand, seeing the work I had done and how well I could move them. I can feel their stares into my face as I gaze at my hand and I smile, reaching both of my hands towards them and scratch them both in their g-spots, under the chin for Sharptongue and behind the ears for Eclipse. Their purring causes me to laugh before I scoop them up and put them next to me on either side.

"**So does that mean that you're all better?"** questions Sharptongue, licking my arm and nuzzling into my side.

"**Yeah, I'm all better on my hand. That one should be fine in a few days."** I tell them, continuing to scratch them.

"_**What about your leg then?"**_ asks Eclipse, raising his head from my side and gazing into my eyes, something that then makes Sharptongue get up too to look into my face.

"**Well, we kind of have to talk about that, hopefully before we all go back to sleep."** Seeing them nod and listen even harder, I start to get down to business, putting on a more serious face. **"The break was clean, and though I think I set it right and straight, we won't really know for a few months. And before you ask if we can just move the bandages and look, the last time we did that, I had to re-set a rabbit's leg and I don't want to go through that again. We'll know in a few months time. Around summer I think."**

"_**We know, you told us when you had to re-set the rabbit's leg. But then what did you want to talk about? We have the fish you caught us and we can drag them up here if you want to …dry them."**_ Eclipse says making a disgusted face that matches Sharptongue's at the mention of dried fish. I laugh at that, but them put on my serious face again, ready to get down to business.

"**Well that's one part of what I wanted to talk about. It's good to know that you'll let me dry the fish, but even if they keep, they'll only feed the three of us for a week or two. Even if you return to your tree Sharptongue the results are the same. There's not enough food to last until I can walk again."**

"_**Then let me go hunting."**_ Howls out Eclipse. _**"I know that I can do it."**_ But I just shake my head at that.

"**Eclipse, I told you before. You are too young. Wait a few more years until you're full grown and then I'll let you hunt, but until then just let me get the food." **I tell him, making a certain wolf grumble and a certain Terrible Terror raise a non-existent eyebrow at my words.

"**But Lantaker,"** he starts, **"You can't even move. How are you going to get food?"**

At that, both of them look up at me, questions in their eyes. I sigh at that and start to tell them my idea.

"**Do you guys know what a crutch is?"** I ask them. At seeing their heads move in a negative, I continue on. **"Well, crutches are like canes or big pieces of branch where there is a flat part under the arms that connects to a cane. It can help me walk since I can place them down on the ground instead of my bad leg and swing on it. Until I can walk then I can use them to go to the river to fish and get us food that way."**

I can see them mull over the idea and agree that I could get food that way. I could stay on the shore and fish from there. They'd seen me do that before, when I didn't want to get wet early in the morning since the water was cold, and that it didn't take too much muscle to do so, but I always came back with enough to eat. Eclipse, in his rare moments though, shows how hard he can think and raises the question I'd had in my head since coming up with this plan.

"_**How are you going to get out of the shack?" **_He asks me, causing me to sigh while Sharptongue gets a different look on his face, one of contemplative thinking.

"**I'm not sure. Before when we first came here, I climbed the tree with my claws. I think that I can do that again and then have the crutches to walk on until I can get to my destination. Then when I have to go up the tree, I hand you the crutches to take with you on the ladder and I climb the tree again with the claws." **I tell them. I'd been mulling over the idea on how to get down and if I could make the crutches before hand, then I could walk to the edge of the shack and start my decent while they took the crutches with them on the ladder.

"**Why not use the ladder like Eclipse?"** Sharptongue says, looking at me. I sigh, having already thought of that and cursing my old self on its construction.

"**Well, when I first made the ladder, I didn't want anything other than animals like Eclipse to be able to get up. If by some chance a human had come by, no matter how slim, I didn't want them to be able to climb the ladder and get up here if it was left down. So when I made it, I designed it to be climbed by animals on four legs. In other words, the gaps between platforms on the ladder are too wide for anything else to climb up. Hence I can't use it since the gap is too large."** I tell them, a little angered and awed at my past actions. Even before I really became one of the forests, I was thinking of the safety of those with me and in the willow tree. About not letting any _humans_ up here for both the safety of the animals and of mine own. This was not the place for them. This was the place for animals and I had already considered myself as one.

"_**Well, that's a problem then."**_ Eclipse starts saying. _**"But at least we could start on that crutch thing and get you moving can't we Sharptongue?"**_ He gazes over to Sharptongue for confirmation, wanting to start on helping me as soon as possible.

"**Yeah we can. We could start that first and get you out of the tree next. First we'll go out and get a branch and then-" **

"**Oh no you don't, you're not getting out of this that easily."** I reprimand them, knowing exactly why they want to do the crutches first.

"_**What ever could you mean?"**_

"**Get out of what my dear Lantaker?"**

They both look at me, innocence shining in their eyes, just hoping I don't say these next words. To bad for them I'm going to crush that hope. Seriously, did they think that I would forget?

"**FIRST, you're going to bring the fish and my drying equipment here, and THEN you can help me build a crutch, though I do agree that we'll figure out me getting out of the tree latter since I doubt that climbing down with a broken leg WON'T hurt. Swinging my legs around, pushing myself closer to the edge, just the thought of my leg hitting the tree while climbing or falling on top of it makes my leg throb in pain at the thought."** A shudder runs down our spines, mine for the thought of falling on my injured leg and theirs at the drying equipment used on fish part. Was it really so bad? Yeah, it was dry, but it still tasted something like fish. Maybe it's just a 'we kill and eat on site animal' sort of thing. Too bad for them I can't always go hunting for fresh food. A good thing too, this way we'll at least have food for the winter and for times like these.

"**WHY/**_**WHY?!"**_ they both screech out and howl at me. **"Why **_**do **_**you**_** have**_** to **_**dry**_** it**_** every**_** single**_** time!? **_**It's GROSS/**_** it's GROSS!" **_They both cry out, begging me to not dry the food. They knew why, but just didn't want me to go through with it.

"**To bad guys. This is one of the only ways to keep the food clean and edible for me. I've seen you guys not eat rotten food and whether it takes away the fun or the flavor for you guys this is one of the only ways to make it so that we can keep eating the food even though it should have been rotten by then. This way we can have food stored for these types of situations where we CAN'T go hunting for food. Are we clear? We ARE going to dry the food." ** I warbled loud and clear, eliciting another shudder from them before they agree.

"_**Yes Lantaker**_**/yes Lantaker"** They respond.

"**Good, then how about we go back to sleep and do all this junk in the morning." **I told them, not really giving them a choice before taking another bite into my root and shifting around so we could all lie down together.

"**And this time, let's NOT lay down on my legs. You can bite my arms, but not my legs." **I say, shifting my position to lie down, yawning as I go. I see them following and pick up Sharptongue so he doesn't accidentally blow fire on something he shouldn't and both my brothers start to yawn.

"**Alright brother/**_**okay"**_ they say, starting to snuggle into my sides, getting comfy for the rest of the night.

"**Good night my brothers."**

"**Good night Lantaker, Eclipse."**

"_**Good night you two."**_

And with that, I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth around me and drift into unconsciousness.


End file.
